


Black Lace I thru III

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 08:41:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11332314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Black Lace I thru III

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Something in Black Lace by Katy Deery

Something in Black Lace  
By Katy Deery

* * *

Mulder couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this uncomfortable, or this conspicuous. It wasn't the first time he'd ever been in the lingerie department of a big store, but it was the first time he'd ever actually intended to buy something there. It had a perverted quality to it and he was beginning to regret his choice of a mystery Valentine's Day gift for Scully. Lately though she'd seemed so depressed and mention of February the 14th was guaranteed to earn you at the very least a look of displeasure from steely blue eyes.

So he'd come up with 'The Plan', a way to make Scully feel good about herself without her being aware of his involvement. Actually it had been Frohike that had given him the idea. For the last three years his friend had been sending Scully an anonymous Valentine's Day card. The first year Scully had been genuinely mystified, going through her list of acquaintance to see if she could track down who it was that had sent it to her. Mulder had quickly been crossed off the list, something that had almost offended him at the time. But what was even more of a surprise was the fact that Scully should treat the card as such a big deal. For weeks afterwards she'd still been talking about it, trying to act as if it was just casual interest while attempting to get Mulder to help her figure out who her secret admirer was. Mulder had assumed that Scully would have received her fair share of romantic acknowledgements. The idea that she hadn't bothered him. He almost felt guilty about it, as though she must have had a life before she'd been sent down to his little basement office. He knew that she'd lost friends over her association with him, but when he'd tried to question her about it, she merely gave him a look and said that they weren't really friends. Since this was something he couldn't argue with, he'd let it go, but it still niggled at his conscience.

Of course eventually Scully had discovered who her secret admirer was. Frohike might be good at hiding whatever information he'd gathered on the latest government plot to use toothpaste in controlling the masses, but in romance he was merely an amateur.

Mulder had expected Scully to get angry and complain about his weird choice of friends. Instead she'd just gotten that closed off, defensive look on her face and had never mention the card again, nor had she since when each year another one arrived at the office. So that was why he'd come up with the idea of sending her a secret Valentine's Day gift, something that was clearly not from Frohike. Something sexy and mysterious and completely female. And that was why he was standing in uncomfortable proximity to a red lace garter belt displayed with loving artistry on the most anatomically correct mannequin Mulder thought he had ever seen.

"It's not your colour. Try the black."

He stiffened and started to turn, but a hand held him in place. "Now, Mulder, let's not make a scene with all these nice people around."

He felt the press of a gun muzzle in his side and carefully made his movements non-threatening. Shrugging out of the grip, he turned to see Alex Krycek, all black leather and jeans, grinning at him as though they met in lingerie stores on a regular basis.

"Krycek, you bastard, what the hell..."

Alex sighed and rolled his eyes. "Mulder, just once I'd like you to start a conversation without calling me a name." He reached over and fingered the lace garter. "So who's the lucky lady?" he asked, looking at Mulder enquiringly.

Mulder let out his breath explosively. "You little...How did you get here?" Mulder demanded, looking around pensively. Too many people, too much risk. "Have you been watching me?"

"It's my life's work, Mulder," Krycek answered with mocking sincerity. "Better than the Simpsons any day."

"Yeah," Mulder jeered, "and I know who I'd cast as Bart."

Krycek's grin widened. "Why thank you Mulder. I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Mulder shook his head, wondering why he was bothering to make conversation with the little weasel. "And that says a lot for our relationship."

Krycek leant in closer and whispered, "so we do have a relationship then?"

Mulder felt the warm caress of breath on his cheek and was shocked as a frisson of arousal shot through him. He decided then and there that he really did need to get a life outside of his VCR. "We have the same relationship a person has with his execution," Mulder spat out, carefully moving back from his tormentor. "One day I'm going to bring you down and tie the noose around your neck myself."

Krycek laughed under his breath. "Sounds kinky, Mulder, but more your thing than mine."

Mulder looked at him, shocked that his enemy might know far more about his sexual preferences than he was comfortable with. Searching the man's face and deciding it was just a lucky guess, he breathed a low sigh of relief. He was still wary though. Krycek wanted something, he always did, and whatever it was, it likely to cost Mulder big time. As the other man moved closer, Mulder wondered angrily why his ex partner seemed to think he had a lease on his personal space. Whatever Krycek's motive in being here was, Mulder trusted him about as much as he trusted the black lunged shadow man he used to work for. There was no way he was going to allow Krycek's sudden appearance to throw him off balance.

"Ah, ah, ah, Mulder," Krycek chastised, wagging a finger in his face. "You were about to call me one of those names you seem to have reserved especially for me." He looked around. "Unless you want to get into this here," he said, drawing Mulder's attention to the odd looks they were garnering, "I suggest we find somewhere a little more...private for this discussion."

Mulder looked at him incredulously. "You think I'm going anywhere with you? You must be crazier than I figured. The only place I'll go with you is an FBI holding cell."

Krycek seemed to consider this. "Could be good. A little spartan maybe, but we could always improvise. You'd have to kill the camera though. I get a little shy in public."

Mulder got the impression that Krycek was having a whole other conversation in a language he didn't speak. Looking around with a slightly hunted expression, he grabbed Krycek's arm and marched him out of view of the inquisitive sales lady at the desk. There was no resistance for which he was grateful. He chose to ignore the existence of the hidden gun he had felt earlier. If Krycek had wanted to kill him he wouldn't still be breathing. He just wished that they were alone so he could punch the smug smile off Krycek's face.

Suddenly he was unceremoniously pushed sideways and before he was aware enough to argue he found himself inside a small, cramped changing room.

"Not as good as a holding cell, but hey, I had to be creative."

"We're in the ladies' changing room. What the f...."

Krycek just looked at him speculatively. "All cats are grey in the dark, Mulder, or behind a curtain. They won't know who's in here. Now why don't you shut up and enjoy your Valentine's present."

"My wha....." the last was almost squeaked out as he felt hands tugging at his coat and jacket and pulling his shirt out of his pants. His efforts to impede their efficiency were unsuccessful as the moment he reached one spot to halt their progress, they merely moved on to greener pastures.

Shock wearing off, Mulder tried using words as a defence against the hands that were somehow fulfilling every fantasy he had never dared dream.

"I should have known you were a faggot, Krycek. Bet Cancerman kept you on a tight leash."

The exploration never stopped, Krycek merely knocking his hands out of the way as they tried half-heartedly to hinder his progress. It was the startling sound of his zipper being lowered that brought Mulder out of his stupor.

"No!! You have got to be one crazy sonofabitch. This is almost a public place..." Mulder stopped, stunned to hear himself offering tacit agreement to continuing this in a less risky setting.

While distracted by his own stupidity, Mulder hardly noticed as his pants were opened and boxers pulled down, but he felt the cool rush of air as he was fully exposed to view...and touch.

"Fuck!" He hit his head against the thin wall, creating a loud thumping noise that had him looking in terror at the curtain, the only thing now protecting him from total humiliation.

Krycek chuckled, obviously amused by his reaction, and Mulder felt the hot breath exhale against his chest. Lips sought and found his nipple, sucking on it through his shirt. As the mouth left him the cloth damply clung to his sensitised flesh like a second skin and try as he might he was unable to stifle the soft moan that issued forth.

"Are we getting happy, Mulder?" The words were almost a kiss. "I'll stop if you want me to. You only have to say the word."

Krycek reached out and caressed Mulder's nipples through the cloth. Then before Mulder could even think to stop him he ripped the shirt open, sending buttons flying against the walls like bullets.

Helplessly writhing under the hands now given free access to his skin, Mulder looked into eyes that knew all his secrets, eyes he couldn't trust not to betray him. This was stupid, incredible stupid, more ammunition given to a man who would be bound to use it one day. 'I should have my brain donated to medical research,' he thought. 'Nah, they only like healthy organs.'

"Why don't you do something useful with that mouth of yours or are you too chicken shit to go through with it?"

Krycek's grin said he recognised the insult for what it was, a way for Mulder to imagine he had some control over the situation.

"Don't worry, Mulder, I'm man enough for you."

Before Mulder could put that opening to good use, Krycek showed him that there were other kinds off openings that could be put to good use. Hands slid down his body until Krycek was kneeling in front of him. A tongue darted out and licked the head of his cock, dipping into the slit and teasing him. He tried to thrust into the welcoming warmth he knew was sure to be waiting for him, hands reaching out to grasp and hold, but was met by only empty air as Krycek pulled back. Looking down in angry confusion, his demand was answered by a quiet insistence and he knew that he was not going to be allowed to control this encounter. His choice was clear. It was too late to turn back now, too late to see sense and get as far away from this man as was humanly possible. He forced himself to relax against the wall, his hands pressed to its cold surface, open and vulnerable and waiting. This was obviously acceptable as Krycek resumed his caresses, licking his way along Mulder's cock, then leaning under to nibble gently at the sacs that were hanging like tempting fruit before him. Mulder's fingernails scraped against the plastic surface behind him as he breathed in gasps of air. Unable to control the impulse, his hips started a shallow thrusting motion. He needed more and he wasn't sure he was going to get it, but the uncertainty itself was exciting in its way. Hands held his hips back, controlling his movements, imprisoning him. He felt lips kiss along his inner thigh, flesh shivering under the caress. Then a hand reached down and enfolded his cock in a tight fist, pumping him with a lack of gentleness that had his blood singing.

"Yeah, Mulder, you like that don't you." There was a feral gleam in Krycek's eyes as they stared up in fascination at him. "You need me now, Mulder. Yeah, you need old Alex now."

Too far gone to be concerned with words, Mulder just enjoyed the touch. The fingers wrapped around his rigid flesh pushed his cock up almost against his stomach and he groaned at the pleasure/pain that shot through him. Then he grunted as a hot and very talented mouth engulfed him to the root.

Anything he had felt before was nothing compared to this. He couldn't restrain the hands that clutched at Alex's hair, but this time they were permitted to remain there. He tried to demand a faster pace, but Krycek refused to be rushed, deep throating him, then pulling back so that just the head of Mulder's cock was in his mouth. He felt teeth gently touching the ridge of foreskin and tensed, but the pressure was acceptable and made him harden even more. Then he was swallowed whole again and he felt the other man's head rubbing against his pubic hair in an erotic dance that was both delightful and unexpected. The restless motion of the throat surrounding him and the tight, moving sheath it provided was just what Mulder needed and he thrust into it with gusto, his legs splayed as far as clothes would allow, totally abandoned to the moment.

Again Krycek pulled back, teeth pricking a little harder this time causing him to jerk in nervous reaction. He heard the deep, throaty chuckle that enjoyed his panic. Normally he would have been annoyed at Krycek's arrogance but for the fact that the deep resonance of his amusement was doing things to his cock. It felt far too good to stop for the sake of a little wounded pride. Hands reached behind him and pulled his ass cheeks apart. He tensed, wondering what the other man intended, but the hard sucking pressure working diligently at his front soon made him forget what was going on elsewhere. It wasn't until he thrust back onto an intruding pressure that he realised his entrance had been breached and an insistent finger was pushing into him.

"Nooo...!!!"

A soothing touch reassured him. "It's OK, Mulder, I promise you're going to love it."

The impossibly beautiful eyes looked up at him in challenge, asking if he had the balls to let Krycek continue.

'You are one sorry fool, Mulder,' he thought to himself, giving his answer by tugging the head back towards his waiting flesh.

This time he forced himself not to react to the finger that demanded admittance, but he was helpless to halt the clench of muscle as he was entered. Forcing the dark head down hard, he tried concentrating on the pleasure he was receiving, but he was totally unprepared for the stunning bolt of sensation as his enemy touched just the right spot.

"Uurgggg!!! God!!!!" His hips twisted and he lost contact with Krycek's mouth momentarily. He felt his balls tighten and he barely heard the triumphant chuckle as he was forced back against the wall and his cock swallowed once more. Before the intense feeling had a chance to fully subside, the finger brushed his prostrate again and he cried out wordlessly this time, thrusting desperately into the waiting mouth uncaring if he was suffocating Krycek so long as he got his release. Finding delightful torment whichever way he thrust, he rammed into his wet haven once, twice, before crying out and exploding into the eagerly waiting mouth, almost ripping Krycek's hair out as he held him in place until the last flickering embers of his climax began to fade. Knees trembling, he found himself sliding down the wall to lay in a depleted heap next to the man who had just given him the best blow-job of his life.

After a few moments when the need to breath was about all his mind could handle, he began to come to his senses, self preservation and his innate paranoia resurfacing. He looked at the man still kneeling before him, suspiciously eyeing the self-satisfied expression on Krycek's face. Without taking his gaze from Mulder, he used the same finger that had just brought the FBI man so much pleasure to wipe at the thin trickle of cum that was slowly making its way down his chin. Then, closing his eyes, he sucked on the finger as though savouring the taste. With his every move intensely studied, Krycek leant over and pressed the finger against Mulder's lips, demanding entry. Lips parted and Mulder felt the slippery glide of flesh as the finger entered him. It tasted of sex, of passion...of Alex. It was the most erotic thing that Mulder had ever experience and he sucked on it greedily. The finger was removed only to be replaced by a tongue that explored and fought for dominance before leaving him bereft. Still stunned by what had happened, Mulder looked up at Krycek, lost and confused.

"Why?"

Krycek ran a possessive hand down his flank. Mulder was too wiped out to knock it away.

"Because I could. Because I wanted you to know that I could." He leant down and Mulder tensed as he licked his belly, placing a soft kiss there. Then he looked up and smiled before quickly springing to his feet.

"You tasted even better than I thought you would."

Mulder was amazed at the thrill of pleasure he felt at the words.

"You thought about how I tasted?"

Krycek smiled sweetly down at him. "Only about every hour of every day. I promised myself that I'd have you if I was a good boy. Took longer than I expected."

"That's because you weren't a good boy," Mulder said with little of his usual sarcasm.

"Oh, I don't know Mulder, by the look of you I'd say I'd been a good boy."

Mulder looked down at himself, at the shirt with its small tears where once there had been buttons, at the pants bunched around his knees. A picture of total dissolution in keeping with the way he felt right then.

When he looked up again he was alone.

For a few moments he just lay there, unable to move, unable to comprehend why he'd allowed this to happen. Then it dawned on him that Krycek hadn't shut the curtain behind him when he left. Frantically pulling up his boxers and pants, he tucked away his shirt, doing up his coat to hide the fact that the expensive white cotton would probably never be the same again. Praying to whatever god might hear him, he smoothed his hair down, checked that the way was clear and quickly exited the changing room. Someone must have been listening that day as he was able to make his way out of the room unnoticed. Eyes flicking restlessly around the lingerie department, he was disgusted to feel disappointment when he couldn't spot Krycek's familiar form anywhere. Calling himself an ass, he decided that Scully's present would have to wait and started to make his way around the displays to freedom and anonymity.

"Excuse me sir."

A hand reached out to halt him and he turned to looked at the sales assistant in horror. Did she know what he'd done? Was she going to report him? Would a charge of indecent behaviour look good or bad on his work record? After all, at least he hadn't had sex with an alien.

"The other gentleman left this for you."

He looked down at the package as if she were trying to hand him a bomb. Meeting the woman's gaze as he took it, he tried not to blush under the knowing look in her eyes.

'Lady, you should have seen me a few minutes ago,' he thought.

"He left a note too. It's in the bag."

He nodded his thanks, breathing a sigh of relief as she walked away.

Slowly opening the bag he drew out its contents. Black lace wrapped around his fingers as though it had a life of its own. It was the garter belt that Krycek had admired earlier. Hand shaking, he searched in the bag for the note and pulled it out.

'For Next Time,' he read.

Pushing the note in one pocket and the garter belt in the other, he almost ran out of the store, stopping only when a near collision with a car reminded him what they would find in his belongings if he ended up at the hospital.

But later that night, laying on his couch twanging the lace garter between his fingers as he watched the gay porn video he'd rented, he couldn't help wondering...about the next time.

 

* * *

 

Desert Hearts: Black Lace 2  
By Katy Deery

* * *

Mulder looked out at the endless highway stretching before him. The Sonaran desert was one of the hottest places in North America and it was certainly living up to its reputation today. He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever see another human face again. Glancing over at his companion, he didn't attempt to qualify the thought. Krycek wasn't on his current list of people who deserved to be numbered in the human race. He remembered his reaction when he'd first received the rather cryptic message, the excitement, the anticipation. He still wasn't sure what has caused such a dramatic reaction, or at least that's what he told himself. But in the darkest corner of his soul he knew and was ashamed. Ashamed of feelings he wasn't able to control and that were totally inappropriate given the circumstances.

He could have ignored the note, pretended not to understand, but of course that had been impossible. His damn curiosity, and something even more unstoppable, had made him take the next flight out to Arizona and head straight for the address he'd been given. The fact that the address had been attached to a pair of black silk stockings had left him in no doubt of the sender. The man was playing mind games with him just like always. He could only be grateful that Krycek had sent the package to his home rather than the office. Trying to explain to his partner the reason he'd received a pair of women's stockings in the post was more than he felt able to cope with. The message had been clear of course, a message from a man he hadn't heard of in over nine months, but who on their last encounter had changed his life forever.

He felt the body next to him shift in its seat and couldn't stop himself from tensing up. When he'd first arrived in Yuma and found out that the address he'd been given was a motel, he'd expected to find Krycek there waiting for him. The feeling of disappointment that hit him when this was not the case had been more than a little disconcerting. He'd been telling himself that the only reason he had gone to Arizona was to get a little revenge for what had happened at his last encounter with Krycek, but revenge had been the furthest thing from his mind as he entered that motel room. He had waited in all day, not sure what to expect, but reluctant to leave the room in case he missed....What? He wasn't sure, but he'd found every excuse under the sun not to go out. In the end he'd fallen asleep across the bed, fully dressed, only to be woken up by a hand shaking him in a far from romantic fashion. Krycek had looked much as usual, leather jacket now a fixture of his appearance. Before Mulder had a chance to launch into one of his typical tirades, another fixture of their relationship, Krycek had tugged him out of bed and told him they had to leave. He'd barely had time to use the bathroom before he'd been rushed out to the rental waiting for them in the parking lot. The only act of defiance he'd managed was to snatch the keys out of Krycek's hand and firmly plant himself in the driver's seat. The sneaky smile he caught on Krycek's face made him suspect that the other man had never had any intention of driving the car himself.

He pulled the shirt away from his skin. His suit jacket had long since been discarded and as he felt the sweat trickle down between his shoulder blades he regretted not having the chance to put on fresh clothes this morning. Not that they would be fresh now, but at least he wouldn't have yesterday's grime to contend with. He wondered whether Krycek had deliberately rented a car with the air conditioning on the fritz. He wouldn't have put it passed the little shit, but since he also had to be suffering in the sweltering conditions, Mulder had to admit it was highly unlikely.

Wiping a hand over his face, he let it fall carelessly to the seat beside him. This wasn't turning out at all like he'd imagine it would. He'd never intended to be a taxi service. In the hurried retreat from the hotel, Krycek had explained to him that he'd gotten careless and Cancerman had found him. Running out of options, he'd decided to take his chances with Mulder. He was tired of hiding, constantly having to move on. He wanted an end to it, whatever the cost. Mulder didn't believe him for an instant, but he was willing to play along until he found out what Krycek was up to. The fact that he got a forbidden thrill just being this close to the other man again was neither here not there of course.

He felt something touch him and he looked down to see Krycek's hand lying within a hair's breath of his own. Feeling a thrill of electricity run through him, he quickly moved his hand back to the steering wheel. After a moment he heard Krycek shift a little closer, but he determinedly never took his eyes off the road. WELL, he told himself, looking out at the flat, relentless nothing before him, I've got to be on my guard. this is just the kind of area where alien abductions take place. after all, if it can happen on dynasty.... The desperate ramblings of his brain were abruptly cut off as a hand began stroking the tense muscles of his thigh with practised attention. Yeah, aliens, little grey men coming down...and...ah...yeah, taking me to their ship and..experimenting on my thigh, eh, i mean on my head...no, no not head, oh god, not *that* head....The hand drifted higher on each upsweep and he felt the answering surge of his flesh as it drew closer to what he hoped and feared was its eventual target.

"You know, Mulder, I'm really grateful to you."

"Mmmm?" He daren't try and make intelligent conversation. He didn't feel capable of giving his best just at present.

It was a good thing he couldn't see the gleam of anticipation in his companion's eyes or he would have known that trying to conceal his feelings from this man was a cause lost long ago.

"You were there when I needed you. If you hadn't been, I might be dead by now." The hand moved higher, lightly brushing the burgeoning mound in Mulder's pants. The car swerved and Mulder could have sworn he heard a breathy chuckle from the man beside him.

"Yeah, I owe you one. If there's I can do for you, you'll let me know, won't you?"

The voice was low, almost hypnotic. Without being aware he was doing so, he spread his legs, an open invitation for Krycek to continue his exploration. "There's nothing I want from you." It was a pretty pathetic effort on his part, but he was proud of even that small act of rebellion.

"Nothing, Mulder?" The hand was now tracing his length and his breath quickened as fingers found his zipper and began to tease at it. "That's too bad. You need to relax more, Mulder. Have some fun."

Relaxing was the farthest thing from his mind as he felt his zip being slowly lowered. He should be pushing that hand away, telling Krycek to go take a running jump. He was being played by a master and he knew it. The ratbastard was enjoying himself. Trouble was, so was Mulder.

He groaned as sure fingers gripped him and pulled him free. He cursed the fact that he wasn't wearing any underwear, conveniently forgetting the reason he had chosen not to wear any on this trip. He could barely keep focused on the road now and silently thanked whoever was listening that there was no oncoming traffic to worry about. To hell with aliens, he thought as he sunk a little lower in his seat. They get in my way, they're road kill. His speed picked up as his foot pushed down. Krycek was working along his length, rubbing the head of his cock where it was moist and excited. He wasn't erect yet, but he was getting there and the journey was proving *very* nice.

"Er, Mulder, are you sure you don't want me to take care of your little...problem? You seem a little..stiff. Must be all that travelling you've been doing lately."

Fingers were tickling his balls now and he couldn't help the moan that forced its way passed his lips.

"Something wrong, Mulder?" Krycek asked with false concern. "Maybe you need a massage. I've been told I'm good with my hands."

Mulder believe it, although he wasn't sure that 'good' was the word he would have chosen. Those hands were incredible and he didn't want them to stop. Maybe later he'd regret this. Maybe later he'd tell himself that Krycek had forced this on him. Guilt free sex, just what he needed. He twisted as Krycek gripped him a little too hard, liking the edge of danger, not knowing what was coming next.

"You're looking pretty swollen there, Mulder. Let me apply a wet compress for you."

And he could only look down in stunned disbelief as Krycek bent and engulfed his rigid flesh in one, mind-blowing swallow.

Mulder let go of the wheel, not even noticing when Krycek casually reached up and straightened it. He pushed the dark head in his lap closer, feeling the movement of Krycek's throat, tighter and wetter than any woman.

After a moment he took control of the wheel again, gripping it to keep from forcing Krycek onto his cock and suffocating the life out of him. He didn't want Krycek dead. At least not before he took care of business.

A soft humming began around his flesh and he tried to jerk his hips up, but it was difficult in his position. Krycek's hand had returned to his balls and was rolling them in their sacks. All Mulder could do was watch the bobbing head and wonder when he'd died and gone to heaven. As a tongue traced the end of his penis, dipping in and making him heave out of his seat uncontrollably, he could feel his balls pull up and knew he was about to cum. Wanting the mouth covering all of him, wanting to shoot his essence so far down Krycek's throat that he'd mark the man for life. To know that no matter where he went, Krycek wouldn't be able to escape him, ever.

His head fell back against the headrest and he closed his eyes, not caring if a ten ton truck chose that moment to appear on the deserted highway. He was close, so close.....

And then there was nothing.

He opened his eyes in disbelief and saw Krycek wiping a hand over his mouth as he moved back to his side of the car and gazed out of the window as though nothing untoward had occurred. As though he hadn't just had Mulder's cock so far down his throat that it now had a nodding acquaintance with Krycek's internal organs.

"What the fucking hell made you stop?!!" Mulder almost shouted, his nerves just about ready to jump out of his skin.

Krycek turned to look at him with practised innocence. Mulder wanted to smash his fist into that smug face.

"You don't need anything from me, Mulder, remember? I'm just taking you at your word." Krycek's smile was sweet and tender and totally false. Mulder could have killed him.

Hardly decreasing his speed he swung over to the side of the road, slamming on the breaks. Holding up his pants, he shoved open his car door and was around to Krycek's side of the vehicle in a flash, yanking his door open and pulling the man out of the car. Krycek barely kept on his feet, not that Mulder minded one way or another. He was fully prepared to drag the man in the dirt if that's what it took. Krycek had been playing him long enough. Now it was time he got what was coming to him and Mulder intended to be the one that saw that he did. Pushing him roughly over the hood of the car, he reached around and searched for the buttons on Krycek's jeans. He almost lost it when the other man backed into him and wriggled his hips against his crotch, but he was determined to get to what he wanted. Loosening the cloth, he reached inside and found that he wasn't the only one who'd come prepared for this encounter. The flesh was bare to his touch and he wondered how that must have felt under the harsh texture of denim. It was no wonder that the flesh in his hand was already half hard. The friction had probably kept him that way most of the day. He waited as Krycek pulled his shirt off and threw it over the car, unbuttoning his own shirt while he waited.

"Spit!" He held his hand under Krycek's face in demand and the other man readily obliged him.

He smoothed the slimy substance between his fingers with a grimace of distaste, but since he didn't have any Astroglide to hand, it would have to do. He doubted Krycek was a virgin, but even so it wasn't going to be easy for either of them. Beginning to question the wisdom of what he intended, he hesitated and pulled back slightly.

Krycek glanced over his shoulder impatiently, sighing in frustration when he saw the indecision on Mulder's face, wishing that his ex partner's conscience wouldn't pop up at the most inconvenient times.

"You got trouble back there?" he taunted, knowing that the only way to get Mulder to go through with it was to make him so mad that good sense went out the window.

Seeing Krycek's grin widened as he looked at him, Mulder followed his gaze down in puzzlement. God, he'd forgotten all about that. The black lace garter stood out in stark relief against his thigh. He had worn it as a joke, a way of telling Krycek that his little gift hadn't thrown him the way he'd intended. He blushed furiously, wishing once again that he'd had a chance to change this morning.

"Maybe you're not up to it, Mulder. Maybe you're not man enough." Krycek spread his legs wider in invitation, grinning challengingly back at Mulder.

For once Mulder didn't rise to the bait, but returned the smile, cupping one of Krycek's asscheeks in his hand. Krycek's expression faltered and he looked uncertain. This was not the reaction he'd been anticipating. Even less was he anticipating the hand that came down hard on his behind with a satisfying *THWACK*.

"Hey! " He tried to straighten, but Mulder pushed him back onto the bonnet, using his other hand to caressed where the skin had reddened slightly.

"You asked for that, you bastard."

Krycek chuckled into the arm he was using to cushion him against the hot metal, feeling the burn of it under his skin. Things were starting to look up. He did so like it when Mulder decided to let go a little. Without warning a finger started to probe him and he sucked in his breath sharply. Stepping back, he forced it deeper, working with Mulder and trying to relax. When it became easier he felt another finger added to the first and grimaced a little as it stretched him. The discomfort didn't last long and by this time he was too excited to care. He just wanted Mulder in him. NOW!

He heard Mulder spit into his palm and looked around to see the other man coating himself in readiness.

"Mulder, enough already. I don't want this to finish before it's started."

Mulder looked embarrassed and nodded in apology, quickly guiding himself to the entrance of Krycek's body. With one hand on Krycek's hip, he placed himself in readiness, then began to push slowly in.

Krycek closed his eyes the better to feel every sensation. He'd expected to be taken roughly, had even wound Mulder up to do that very thing, but the man was surprising him yet again. That was one of the reasons he...... He switched off his brain before it started to tell him things he wasn't prepared to listen to. This was sex, pure, simple sex, and that was the way he wanted to keep it. Anything else was a sure way to hell.

His flesh parted and enveloped Mulder and he felt every inch as it sunk into him. The fullness, the ownership, was exactly what he needed. It might be Mulder who was fucking him, but it felt like he was possessing Mulder, body and soul. He squeezed Mulder's cock and smiled as he heard him catch his breath. Yes, Mulder belonged to him now, whether he knew it or not.

For Mulder the sensations were totally incredible. The tightness was threatening to throw him over the edge, but his pride wouldn't let that happen, not yet. He tried to calm down, taking deep breaths. The blood pounded in his ears, demanding that he start to thrust into the flesh that sheathed him. But no, he wanted to drive this man wild, wanted to take every last vestige of control he had and rip it away. Flush against Krycek's wet back, his tongue sipped at the rivulets of sweat. He kissed Krycek's neck and sucked on the acrid skin, washing it clean, leaving his mark of ownership. His hand drifted down and cupped Krycek's cock as he slowly pulled out, then quickly plunged back in, keeping the tender flesh from burning on the searing metal. Krycek yelped as he was filled once more and pushed back into the valley of Mulder's hips. Mulder twisted, moving the angle until Krycek jerked and cried out, his flesh expanding even further under the hand that gently pumped him.

"Oh my god! Do that again!"

Mulder smiled and rammed back in, kissing down Krycek's back as the man grunted and mewled, his head coming up in wide eyed pleasure. "Oh that's so good, so good."

It was barely a whisper, but Mulder heard. He thrust his hand under Krycek's armpit, lifting him up, then he started thrusting in earnest, snapping his hips as he felt his own control beginning to disintegrate. He cupped Krycek balls, noting their tightness with keen delight. It wouldn't be long now. Determined that Krycek would reach the pinnacle before him, he raised his hand and licked it before wrapping it around Krycek's cock again, chuckling softly as the wet coolness made Krycek jump and slam back against him.

"Mul.....MULDER!!!" His name was screamed and he clasped the body closer to him as the flesh in his hand jumped and spurted forth life. He held it in wonder, watching as the white flecks decorated the hood of the car, feeling the jerk and pulse of it in his hand. As the muscles holding his own cock clenched around him, his breath caught and held and he shouted out unintelligibly. Unable to hold off orgasm a moment longer he erupted into the body beneath him, sinking down onto the smooth back as he thrust one last time and shot his final load into the body he had so longed to possess.

It was probably only a few moments before he came to his senses, although it seemed longer. The first thing he notice was the heat. Then it was the sharp elbow that was poking into his ribs.

"Mulder, get off will ya. I'm cooking here."

He pulled back, feeling unutterably sad as his flesh pulled free. Two people again. Two enemies. Sighing, he stood up on less than steady legs, pulling his pants from around his knees and tucking himself away. He avoided looking at Krycek as he adjusted his clothing. Quickly making his way to the driver's seat, he tapped his fingers impatiently as he watch Krycek get dressed.

Krycek stood there and looked at him through the window, but Mulder wouldn't meet his eyes and eventually Krycek walked over and got in the car. Mulder barely waited for him to close the door before pulling way, speeding down the highway and leaving a considerable portion of tyre behind in the process.

Neither of them spoke a word, but Mulder was aware of Krycek staring at him. He ignored it, not wanting to talk, not wanting this man to look into his soul, a soul that was no longer entirely his own.

"Mulder."

"What!" He didn't mean to snap, but the atmosphere was starting to get to him. There was silence for a moment, then Krycek continued. "I need to make a pit stop. The sign said there's a town about a mile up ahead."

"Fine." Mulder didn't know why he was so angry all of a sudden, he just knew he was and for once he couldn't convince himself that Krycek deserved his anger. Which only served to make him angrier of course.

Krycek didn't speak again, just sat slightly hunched in his seat as far away from Mulder as the car would allow.

As they drew nearer town, Mulder spotted a garage and pulled in. The last thing they needed was to run out of gas and he had to get out of the claustrophobic atmosphere what permeated the vehicle.

"I'm going to use the john," Krycek said, gesturing over to a small building. He sounded subdued and Mulder tried to ignore the guilt that washed over him. Nodding, he turned away and after a moment he heard Krycek's footsteps retreat, breathing a sigh of relief once he was gone.

While the tank was filling he checked the map. The next town marked was quite a drive away, so they might as well find a hotel for the night. Mulder rubbed his neck. Maybe tomorrow things would be back to normal. He hoped so. He didn't think he could take it if they weren't.

Checking his watch, he frowned. Krycek was taking his time. He started to worry. There was always the chance that his rough lovemaking had done some damage. Deciding he'd better go check on him, Mulder wasn't even aware that he no longer considered his relationship with Krycek as just sex and nothing more. If he had stopped to think about it, he would have been aware that it was far more complicated, twisted and totally addictive than was altogether comfortable or easily explained by rampant hormones.

"Krycek! Alex, are you OK?" He pushed open the door of the restroom gingerly, not wanting to invade the other man's privacy, especially given the circumstances. The room was empty. All the doors to the stalls were open and unoccupied. Mulder's eyes searched around, noting the small open window before turning and seeing the message scratched into the mirror.

[my mistake, mulder. i guess there's no such thing as a happy ending. see you in hell.]

There was no signature, but then none was needed. Back pressed against the wall, he sank down onto the cool tiles below, staring at the words etched in glass. He was gone and this time Mulder wasn't sure he'd be coming back. Resting his head between his hands, he tried to push away the emotions flooding him, telling himself that it was better this way, better for both of them. It could never have worked out. They would have ended up destroying each other.

Rising to his feet, he approached the mirror. A finger traced the words almost against his volition, curving along each letter as he tried to accept the truth. He caught his own reflection in the mirror and his hand stilled as he found himself looking into the eyes of a stranger. Empty, lonely, alone. And he knew he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

The End, but I don't like leaving the boys this unhappy, so there may well be another encounter to get them sorted out. You never know.

 

* * *

 

OK, first of all, this has no sex and it's not finished. For anyone who has not deleted after than warning, I will continue. This is the third part in the Black Lace series. I apologise to everyone for how long it's taken, but I have been busy and have also had no inclination to write a great deal. Hence the fact that this is only part one of 'My Oxygen'. There is more, but I'm not sure when I'll be writing it, so I'm posting this now in the hope that it may force me to continue writing. It is also why there is no sex as yet. There will be, but Alex is not strong enough for it at the moment. Give him time. The boy has stamina. This can be archived at the usual sites, but <not> sent to Gossamer since I never do. Just don't kill me for leaving it you all up in the air again. I'm splitting it into two posts as Leigh's had problems receiving it.

* * *

My Oxygen - Part One  
Part three of the Black Lace series  
By Katy Deery

"You are my oxygen  
I breathe you in..I breathe you out  
You are my oxygen...you are my love  
You are what life's about."

Richard Plant 'My Oxygen'

Calls that come at 2 a.m. in the morning are rarely good news, so when Mulder reached out blindly seeking the phone beside his bed, he was awake enough to feel his heart start pumping with familiar dread. Pulling himself out of one of the deep, almost catatonic sleeps that he was so seldom blessed with, he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Mulder."

"Is this Mr. Fox Mulder?"

He tensed, sitting up in bed and rubbing his face to try and wipe the last foggy traces of sleep out of his brain. This sounded like trouble.

"Yes, I'm Fox Mulder. Who is this?"

"Mr. Mulder, I'm phoning from Vancouver Hospital, British Columbia. I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. Your brother was brought in here a short while ago suffering from pneumonia."

Mulder blinked in confusion. "My brother?"

It was the caller's turn to sound hesitant. "Yes, your brother, Alex Lace? He has you down as next of kin in his wallet and this telephone number."

For a split second Mulder wondered who this mysterious Alex Lace was and why he was claiming kinship with him, then even his barely awake brain put the pieces together. "Oh, Alex. Of course. He's my half brother," he corrected, trying to cover for the slip and the difference in their names. "Just how ill is he?"

"I'm afraid he's very ill, Mr. Mulder. I think it would be best if you came here as soon as possible. The attending physician will be able to explain the situation in more detail."

"I'll take the next flight out." He muttered his thanks, slowly replacing the phone as he attempted to take in what he'd been told. Krycek was ill. By the sound of it, pretty seriously ill. Life threatening? Maybe. The only way to find out was to go to Vancouver.

Throwing the covers aside, he looked for his clothes and began to dress, pausing only briefly to booked the next available flight out.

***************

By the time the taxi arrived at the hospital, Mulder had worked himself into a state of high tension. It had taken a while for the reality of the situation to sink in, but he'd had plenty of time on the plane to think. Too much time. What if he was too late? What if Krycek was already dead? His brain insisted on going over and over their last meeting and the way it had ended. He'd been trying to put the incident behind him, telling himself that his former partner deserved the way he had treated him. Unfortunately he hadn't managed to convince his overactive conscience of that fact.

His intention had been to give Krycek a little of the medicine he'd handed out to Mulder in the department store on Valentine's day, but things hadn't quite turned out as he'd intended. He had to admit, however reluctantly, that there was a world of difference between the two occasions. Mulder had allowed all the frustration and pain to seep out that day on the road and although the sex had been great and they had both enjoyed it, it had left a bitter taste in his mouth. When Alex had made love to him in the lingerie department it had been just that, an act of loving worship that had driven him out of his skull. Krycek's actions during and after the encounter had been totally different from his own the next time they'd met. He still remembered the look in Krycek's eyes as he said he was going to use the facilities at the gas station. There had been a dead quality to them that Mulder had ignored at the time, but that had come back to haunt him in dreams throughout the months since. No matter how much he told himself that it was all an act put on to make him feel guilty, he couldn't let it go. The words etched into that mirror came to him at odd moments during the day until he began to believe he had fashioned his own version of hell. 

Barely waiting for the automatic doors to open, Mulder walked quickly into the hospital and up to the front desk. 

"I'm Fox Mulder. Someone on your staff phoned me to say you'd admitted an Alex Lace. I'm his brother." 

The woman at reception gave him a practice smile and started to check the records with a methodical precision that had Mulder shuffling impatiently. 

"Yes, Mr. Mulder. Your brother was admitted late last night. I'll page Dr Walker for you. She's the attending physician."

"Is he OK?" Mulder asked, mentally congratulating himself on the calmness of his voice.

"Dr. Walker will be able to bring you up to date on your brother's condition," she stonewalled him.

He didn't press her, knowing enough about hospital bureaucracy to realise that he would get no further until the doctor turned up.

After a few minutes that seemed more like hours to Mulder, a woman in a white coat came along the corridor to where he was waiting. 

"Mr. Mulder? I'm Dr. Walker." She held out her hand and Mulder shook it, taking a measure of comfort in the firm, forthright grip.

"How's....Alex, doctor?" He caught himself in time, finding it odd to use Krycek's first name again.

She started to lead him back along the corridor. "He was brought in here last night after collapsing in the street. I won't lie to you, Mr. Mulder, he's very sick. He's developed Free Pleuro fluid. It's a complication of pneumonia. Normally it would be easily treated and isn't life threatening, but your brother's general condition is very poor and that will of course have some bearing on his recovery. At the moment we have him in ICU. Does he have any other family besides yourself that should be contacted?"

Did Krycek have any family? He had never considered the fact that somewhere he might have other people who cared about him. <She doesn't think he's going to make it,> he realised. "He only has me." Wondering if that was true, he felt vaguely shocked at how little he actually knew about Alex Krycek, the man. He didn't even know if that was his real name. "Can I see him?" 

"Of course." They walked a little further along the corridor, through some doors leading into the Intensive Care Unit. 

"You can stay as long as you want. He's very weak and keeps going in and out of consciousness due to the drugs we've been giving him. If you need to speak to me, just ask the nurse at the desk." 

"Thank you," but his mind wasn't on the doctor. Through the large glass pane he could see the familiar figure sitting propped up in the bed, tubes partially obscuring a face that Mulder knew almost as well as his own. Walking into the room, his eyes never left the fragile figure that looked so frighteningly lifeless to him. There were machines all around measuring this and that, one pumping air into labouring lungs. Their presence brought home to him how serious the situation was and he wanted nothing more than to rip them away from Krycek. Instead he sat by the bed, careful not to knock anything, knowing that these very same machines that he hated and feared were all that was keeping Alex alive. It seemed surreal somehow, as though at any moment Krycek would sit up and grin that shit taking grin and call out 'Surprise. Got you good this time, Mulder'. Then Mulder would yell and call him names and everything would be OK. Everything would be OK. 

<He looks thinner,> he thought, trying to concentrate on that simple truth. <Even thinner than when we first met.> He remembered that meeting as though it were yesterday, his first glimpse of the serious young agent so eager to impress, so eager to please. He probably would never know how much of that was fact and how much was a lie. It was easier to believe it all was, easier to hate the total package that was Alex Krycek, betrayer, killer. 

<He's going to die.> The heart monitor beat out its message. <What the hell am I doing here? I don't owe him anything.> But he leant forward and studied the pale face under the mask, looking for some sign of the Krycek he knew and finding only a helpless young man too ill to defend himself. <Damn you, don't you dare die on me you bastard.> He reached for the slim white hand that lay on the covers before him and gripped it hard. <Please.>

************

The next three days pretty much ran into each other. After signing the necessary forms and arranging for the medical expenses to be covered, Mulder got a room at a hotel near the hospital. Most of the time he just sat in the ICU unit, only going back to his room to shower and change his clothes. Krycek's condition remained unchanged, neither better nor worse. Occasionally he regained consciousness, but he never seemed to recognise Mulder or understand where he was. More for something to do than in a belief that Alex would hear him, Mulder started to talk to the unconscious man about some of the cases he'd handled over the years, embellishing a little, half hoping that Krycek would wake up and tell him he was crazy. He'd managed to arrange some leave, claiming a family emergency. Scully had been a little skeptical at first, but something in his tone must have convinced her and she had agreed to clear things with Skinner. There was no way he wanted to explain what he was doing in Vancouver. <He> wasn't even sure of his reasons for being there. All he knew was that he couldn't leave.

"....so she came at me from nowhere. I really thought she was going to rip my throat out. Believe me, I never wanted to get that up close and personal, no matter what people say about me." He looked at Alex, knowing he would appreciate the joke at Mulder's expense, but of course there was no reaction. "I looked up into her eyes and I could see ... something, I can't describe it. A spark of intelligence, need, I don't know, but somehow, for that one moment, we connected."

He stood up and walked over to the glass window, remembering how terrified he had been, yet at the same time fascinated by this creature who had existed all her life completely outside the bounds of civilisation. "They killed her in the end. They always end up killing what they don't understand." He looked over his shoulder at the man lying on the bed. "And why the hell am I telling you this? You're not hearing a word I say." His open hand slapped the glass in frustration, but it didn't help.

Slowly he went back and sat down again, resting his head on the bedcovers. He felt so very tired, like he hadn't sleep in forever, but he knew it was more a weariness of the spirit than the flesh. He sat there each day and talked and talked and tried to tell himself that everything was going to be all right. But each day he lost a little more hope. 

"You're going to die on me, Alex," he whispered into the blanket, unable to face the sight of the pale, still form that looked so defenceless and suddenly so very, very young. "That's just the kind of shitty thing you would do. The ultimate way to win the war. Unilateral disarmament at its most basic. How the hell am I supposed to hate you once you're dead?"

Suddenly he felt a light touch on his hair and stiffened in shock. Tentatively raising his head, his gaze was met and held by two heavy lidded eyes looking back at him. For the first time in days there was awareness within them. 

"Alex?" He sat up deliberately, saw the eyes follow his movement, the mouth trying to work around the tube. He started to gag and Mulder instinctively reached out to reassure him, taking his hand as it moved towards his face. 

"No, you've got to leave it in." He pressed the buzzer by the bed, attempting to get his hand back and finding that Krycek had no intention of releasing it. Even when the nurse came in and tried to hustle him out, Krycek refused to let go, showing a surprising strength given his condition. Standing anxiously by the bed, Mulder waited while the nurse checked Krycek over before she left to fetch the doctor. 

"You've been very ill," Mulder said, feeling the need to say something. He didn't want to acknowledge the look of fear in the eyes staring up at him, uncomfortable with the situation now that Krycek was awake. Shifting uneasily, he ruthlessly tugged his hand out of the tenacious grip when the doctor appeared, flushing with embarrassment even though he knew she would see nothing wrong with their holding hands.

She checked Krycek over briskly, then jotted some notes on his chart. All the time Alex's gaze was fixed on the man who stood in the corner, his back pointedly turned towards the bed. 

"Can I have a word with you outside, Mr. Mulder?"

Mulder was happy to leave, following the doctor into the corridor with obvious haste.

"Your brother appears to be doing a little better, but I've given him a mild sedative. He should sleep for a while. I'm a little worried about his lungs. There's still a lot of fluid there, but things are looking more hopeful. With rest and the proper care, he should make a full recovery."

Mulder slumped against the wall as relief washed over him. He put his light-headedness down to lack of food and very little sleep. 

"That's good to hear, Dr. Walker. How soon before he can leave the hospital?"

She looked startled by the question. "Mr. Mulder, you're brother is still very sick. It will be some time before we could even think of discharging him."

Mulder frowned. Staying here was dangerous. If the wrong people found out that Alex was a patient in the hospital his life expectancy would go back to zero.

The doctor saw his bleak expression and mistook its cause. "Don't worry, Alex will get the very best of care here." She moved closer, concerned by the grey faced fatigue she saw. "He's going to be asleep for at least twelve hours. Why don't you go back to your room and get some rest."

Mulder nodded tiredly. Sleeping on an actual bed sounded pretty good now that he knew Krycek wasn't going to die on him. "I left my number at the desk. You'll let me know if anything happens?" 

"Of course. With any luck he should have a peaceful night. It's what he needs right now."

Mulder took one last look into the ICU room. Krycek was under again, slumped across the pillows much as he had been for the last couple of days. <I'm going to have to deal with this,> Mulder thought. <I'm going to have to figure out what the hell's going on between us.> He rested his head against the glass. <Right now I just need some sleep and maybe, if I'm real lucky, I'll wake up and this will all be some pizza induced nightmare.> Yet in spite of his confusion and the resulting problems that now had to be dealt with, the smile he blessed patients and staff alike with as he left the hospital was unarguably a happy one.

***********

"I take each breath as if it is my last   
You never know what came so slowly  
Could leave us oh so fast  
I take each step as if it is to you  
I hear your voice...I feel your presence  
In everything I do  
My body sleeps...your lips revive  
Our eyes meet and I know I'm alive."

Richard Plant 'My Oxygen'

The phone call when it came brought him abruptly awake. Although he'd managed to get some sleep, it had been fitful and he didn't feel any better for it. Certainly the sudden tension a call in the middle of the night brings was not likely to soothe his nerves. Reaching for his cellphone by the bed, he knock it to the floor in his haste, his hands shaking as he bent down to pick it up.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Mulder, this is Dr Walker. I'm sorry, I think you'd better come back to the hospital. Your brother has had a relapse."

It was said without preamble, a simple statement of fact from someone who had learned there was no easy way to impart such news. Mulder closed his eyes, his knuckles white around the phone.

"I'll be right there."

This time the journey was much shorter. Mulder ran most of the way, fighting against his fears and the gut-wrenching terror that ate away at his insides. <I should never have left. He's dying because I left him. He's dying. He's going to die.> It was all he could think about as he ran down the corridor, ignoring the looks and the shout from the charge nurse. 

When he arrive at the ICU it was much the same as always. Hesitantly he approached the bed, watching the rise and fall of Alex's chest as he struggled to take each breath. 

"Mr. Mulder?"

He turned and saw Dr Walker. "You told me he was going to be OK," he accused, blaming her for what had happened because he needed someone else to shoulder the guilt he was feeling. 

"His chest infection was clearing up, in fact we were able to remove the tube, but he seems to have developed a problem with his kidneys. He went into cardiac arrest, but luckily we were able to revive him." She looked at Mulder with sympathy, but he wasn't in the mood to appreciate it.

"What good is all this?" he said, gesturing to the machines positioned around Krycek's bed. "What good are you?" He wanted to smash something, anything, just so he could stop feeling the pain. "He's going to die and you can't do a damn thing to stop it."

He looked back at the man in the bed, feeling all the frustration of three days and nights of waiting and hoping well up inside him. He sank down into the chair and took Alex's frighteningly lifeless hand between his own. 

"I know this is hard," the doctor came to stand behind him. He ignored her, embarrassed by his outburst, but too stubborn to apologise. "We are doing everything in our power to help your brother. Beyond that it's out of our hands." He felt a light touch on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

He nodded, feeling ashamed. He knew they were doing their best. It was just easier to have someone else to blame. 

She left him alone, but he didn't notice her leaving. His concentration was fixed on Krycek. When had his survival become so important? When had Mulder begun to care? He clasped the hand tighter, studying it for the first time, seeing the veins, the little hairs that decorated it, the beautiful fingers that tapered into points. It didn't look like the hand of a killer.

"I hated you for what you did to me. I've never hated anyone as much as I hated you. Not even that smoking bastard." He pressed the hand to his cheek, denying the cold, still feeling of death in the touch. "You ... you were someone I ... liked. I actually liked you." His smile was bitter. "I never knew I needed the kind of ego boost you gave me, hanging around me like I was the nearest thing to god you'd ever get to. And then it was all a lie. And I hated you for that. I hated you for my father, for Scully, but most of all, for taking that away from me. For making me feel like nothing."

Mulder felt his eyes start to burn and all the things he had tried to keep hidden even from himself began to surface. 

"Alex, can you hear me? I hope you can hear me." He leant in closer. "I want you to know that I'm sorry for what I did to you. I know I hurt you. And I want you to know I forgive you. Do you hear me, I forgive you." He didn't know if it was true. At this point he didn't really care. All he knew was that this man was going to die and for his own redemption, he needed to let go of the hate. Bending over, he held the hand to his lips.

"Mulder...?"

The hoarse whisper shocked him to his senses. He wiped at his face, surprise to find it wet.

"Mulder?"

The hand within his own clenched slightly and Mulder raised his eyes to Krycek's face. 

"You'll get a ... bad back..sitting in that chair," Alex croaked.

Mulder laughed shakily. "See, I always said you were a pain in the butt," he manage to choke out, tightening his grip. 

Krycek smiled weakly. "It's what I live for." His eyes closed and Mulder felt the hand in his become lax. He didn't let it go. 

<I'm here. This time I'm here.>

**************

Mulder had just finished a rather awkward conversation with Scully. The 'Sick Relative' story was starting to wear thin, especially given that she had never believed it in the first place. Now Skinner was bringing pressure to bear and she wanted to know when Mulder was likely to be back. He had understood the unvoiced offer of help, but there was no way he could explain this to his partner. No way he could expect her to understand something he didn't understand himself. Checking his watch he saw it was 2.30 p.m. He was late. Alex's recovery had been quick once he had decided to get better. That was how Mulder thought of it at times. It was as if Krycek just decided he wasn't going to die. On his darker days Mulder suspected he had never had any intention of dying, had just wanted to drive Mulder insane. And it appeared to have worked. It was the only thing that explained the crazy way he'd been acting lately.

Pushing open the door to the room, he entered without knocking, catching an anxiously expectant look on Alex's face before it changed to annoyance.

"You're late." The tone was petulant and almost made Mulder smile. Alex could be such a spoiled brat at times. 

"Traffic was hell."

Since Krycek knew that his hotel was virtually next door to the hospital the excuse was a poor one, but then Mulder was no longer in the mood to coddle his ex-partner.

"Here, I bought you these." He tossed some magazines at Krycek, flopping down into the chair next to the bed. 

"No food? The doctor says I need fattening up."

Krycek met his look innocently enough. Mulder wasn't fooled for a second.

"You think I don't know about the stuff you get the nurses to sneak in?"

Krycek grinned unabashedly. "What can I say, they love me." 

"They don't know you like I do."

As Mulder saw the closed look come over Krycek's face he felt a stab of guilt. He desperately wanted a return to the old status quo between them, yet always felt like he'd just kicked a sick puppy when he saw how his sarcasm affected the other man. 

"I'll try and get you some of those sweet peanuts you like next time, OK?" 

As peace offerings went, it wasn't much, but Mulder was relieved to see a tentative smile form on Krycek's lips. 

"And chocolate? They do great chocolate here, Mulder," Alex said, looking up at Mulder from under his lashes. 

"Don't push your luck," but the FBI man said it with no real bite. He moved to sit on the bed, his expression suddenly serious. "You know you can't stay here."

Krycek nodded. "I'm better." He saw the look on Mulder's face. "OK, I still feel like hell, but we both know that the longer I stay here, the more likely it is they'll find me." He shifted, surreptitiously moving closer to Mulder. "I don't think they're actively looking for me anymore, not since they got the D.A.T. tape back, but I know I'm not safe here."

Mulder agreed. The longer that Krycek stayed in one place, the more danger he was in. "Do you have anywhere to go?" He remembered the condition Krycek had been in when he'd first been admitted to the hospital. It didn't sound as though he'd been living in the lap of luxury since they'd last met. 

"Yeah, sure, I have friends." He wouldn't meet Mulder's eyes.

"That's what I thought." Mulder got up and headed for the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" Alex demanded. "You only just got here."

"I'm going to see about finding a place for you to stay until you get back on your feet."

Krycek looked astounded. "You'd do that for me? Why?" he asked suspiciously.

Mulder was ready for that particular question. "Because there are still things you know that could be useful to me of course."

Pain tightened Krycek's eyes for a second, then was gone "OK, I'll tell you what I know, but don't expect much for your money," he said resentfully.

Mulder opened the door. "Oh, I'll expect a lot. You can be sure of that. I'll be back at ten tomorrow morning. Just be ready to leave."

He didn't wait for a reply, knowing that Krycek had no real choice in the matter and enjoying the feeling of power this gave him. He had arrangements to make and little time to make them, but at least he was taking back control of his life. For now he was all Krycek had and as much as he wanted to deny it, he was getting a buzz out of the situation. Choosing not to look any deeper into his motives, he went back to his hotel room and made the necessary calls. And that night he slept better than he had in years.

*******************

When Mulder turned up the next day, Krycek was sitting on his bed dressed and waiting for him.

"The doc wasn't too pleased when I said I was leaving today," he told Mulder as soon as he closed the door.

Mulder made a face. "Yeah, she read me the riot act when I came in. She says you're not well enough to be moved," he sounded as though he were beginning to have second thoughts.

"Look, we both know that there are other concerns she's not aware of. I've got to get out of here, Mulder."

Mulder nodded, then swiftly offered support as Krycek stood on less than steady legs.

"There's a wheelchair outside. I'll go get it. You sit down," he ordered, going to fetch the chair.

"I love it when you're masterful, Mulder," Krycek called after him, grinning as the FBI man helped him into the chair and pointedly ignored the comment.

Mulder wheeled Krycek to the hired car he had waiting and watched as he got into the front seat before returning the wheelchair. When he came back Krycek was sitting with his eyes closed, his head tipped sideways against the window.

"You OK?" Mulder asked, trying to hide the level of concern he felt.

"Yeah." Krycek opened one eye and peered at him comically. "I'm glad to be out of there," he said, smiling faintly, "It's full of sick people."

Mulder struggled not to answer the smile, but found his lips twitching anyway. "A hospital with sick people. Now there's an X- File if ever I saw one."

He threw the car into gear and pulled out of the car park..and tried not to wonder why he felt better than he had for a long time. 

The journey was punctuated with enquiries from Krycek as to their final destination, but Mulder just told him to be patient. Instead Alex began to guess at where they were going, coming up with such ludicrous suggestions that even Mulder was persuaded into laughter. After a time though Krycek grew silent and Mulder could see the journey was taking a toll on what little reserves he had left. Knowing there was nothing he could do to ease the discomfort Alex was obviously feeling, he put his foot down a fraction harder and hoped he wouldn't have to flash his badge to some enthusiastic motorcycle cop who might or might not show him leniency. 

Fortunately his luck held and soon he was pulling into the driveway that would lead them to their final destination.

Sensing that the trip was nearly over, Krycek took more interest in their surroundings. "Where are we?"

Mulder pulled up outside the house. "It's rented. You needed a place to stay," he offered by way of explanation.

Krycek looked truly amazed. "You rented this place for me?" The idea seemed to totally throw him and he studied the large, unmistakably expensive house with disbelieving eyes.

Mulder appeared vaguely embarrassed. "Yeah, look, it's no big deal."

"Where the hell did you get the money? They never paid FBI agents this good in my day." Krycek was obviously not going to let the matter drop, much to Mulder's chagrin.

"What, they didn't tell you?" Mulder asked bitterly. Krycek looked confused. "I guess I should thank you. When you murdered my father you made me a very rich man."

Mulder savagely yanked open the car door and got out. Krycek followed him more slowly. He stood next to the car gazing up at the house, but now his expression was far less admiring than before. This place had been paid for with William Mulder's money. He had his own reason for resenting that fact as bitterly as Mulder.

"Are you coming inside or do you intend staying out here all night?" Mulder said sarcastically, pulling the bags out of the trunk and striding towards the house.

Krycek hesitated, but he really had no choice. Walking into the house on slightly unsteady legs, this time there was no helping hand offered, not that he had really expected one. Looking around at the tasteful decor with a certain lack of appreciation, he felt a little lost and uncomfortable. Wasting no time, Mulder took the cases upstairs and Krycek gazed after him, regretting the tension that had sprung up between them again. 

He was sitting on the stairs when Mulder reappeared, turning as he heard the firm tread behind him. 

"You'd better get some rest," was the terse comment as Mulder stepped passed, leaving him there as he went to check how well stocked the refrigerator was. 

Krycek was silent, not wanting to set off the fight that Mulder was obviously spoiling for. He felt a tiredness that went right through to his bones. The idea of bed, even a bed bought and paid for with Bill Mulder's money, was a welcome one. Pulling himself to his feet, he began to trudge up the stairs, trying to fight off the light-headed feeling that was pervading him. Only a few more steps to go. He was hardly aware of his grip on the banisters failing, or the blackness that seemed to close in all around, but suddenly hands were there to steady him and he gave in to the dark with the complete knowledge that he was totally safe in those familiar arms.

*************

He woke up to find himself lying in a strange bed. The drawn curtains at the window did not disguise the fact that it was now night outside. A quick glance at the bedside clock revealed that he had been asleep for about six hours. That was all he seemed to do nowadays, sleep. Still, he felt a lot better than he had in a long time. Just knowing that he was out of the hospital was enough to make him rest easier. Taking quick stock of himself, he found that he'd been stripped down to his boxers. Mulder must have undressed him before putting him to bed. The thought brought a flush of heat to his skin and he felt a momentary regret that he hadn't been awake and able to fully appreciate the experience. Pushing the covers aside, he decided to go and find his reluctant host.

A pleasing aroma of something definitely edible drew him downstairs and he realised that he was feeling pretty hungry himself. As if on cue his stomach rumbled demandingly and he followed the tantalising smell to its source.

Mulder sat in front of the TV with various boxes of food on the table before him and Krycek had to smile. He should have known better than to think that Mulder would have actually cooked. 

"Mind if I help myself to some of that?" he asked, settling on the couch next to Mulder.

"Go ahead," Mulder allowed, indicating the boxes of Chinese food with his chopsticks.

"I'm surprised they deliver out here," Krycek said, more to make conversation than for any real interest.

"They don't. I had someone stock up before we got here." 

Krycek really didn't care where the food came from. All he knew was it was the most appetizing thing he'd tasted since he couldn't remember when, launching into the food with a gusto that had Mulder staring at him with amused tolerance.

"What?" he asked, catching the look as he shoveled more rice into his mouth.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that you've obviously got your appetite back. The nurses were starting to worry about you."

"Yeah, well if you had to eat that kinda slop, you'd be on a diet too," he defended around a mouthful of pork ball. "Now this is what I call food, Mulder."

His grin was infectious and pulled an indulgent smile from Mulder.

"What are we watching?" Krycek asked, leaning back contentedly, still holding one of the boxes in easy reach. 

"The Day The Earth Stood Still. It's one of my favourites. It's all about this alien that comes to earth." He glanced at Krycek, intending to share the joke, but Krycek's face had that closed in look that Mulder was coming to hate. What had he said? He looked at the TV. Was it something to do with the movie?

"We can watch something else if you'd rather?"

Krycek gave a terse shake of his head, returning the box of food to the table as though he had suddenly lost his appetite. "No, that's OK."

"Alex ...?"

"Leave it alone, Mulder." The tone was weary, defeated. 

"This is about when you were taken over by the alien, isn't it?"

"I said back off." Krycek jumped to his feet. "Look, I'm still kinda wiped out, so I think I'll call it a night." 

He avoided Mulder's concerned gaze. 

"Alex."

"What!" His tone was a challenge, but Mulder understood the fear behind it.

"When you're ready, I'll be here."

Krycek hesitated at the door. "Will you Mulder?" he asked, wondering why the answer was suddenly so important to him.

The FBI man knew that the conversation had gone far beyond what he had intended. "For as long as I can be." He wouldn't lie, not about this.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Goodnight, Mulder."

And as Mulder sat oblivious to the plot unraveling on the TV screen before him, he wondered when hurting Alex Krycek has become an option he no longer enjoyed taking.

***********

"And I'm nobody without you If you were not here what would I do."

Richard Plant 'My Oxygen'

***********

As Alex opened his eyes the first thing he noticed was Mulder sitting on the edge of his bed. The second was that the FBI man's shirt was unbuttoned, giving Krycek an unadulterated view of his chest and the fine definition of muscles over a hard stomach. It was a great way to wake up and assured Krycek that the libido he had been having serious doubts about lately was still functioning fine. Stirring restlessly, he lifted his leg so that Mulder wouldn't notice his rising interest and pushed himself up in the bed.

"I made breakfast," Mulder said, standing and looking flustered for a moment, something that was not lost on Krycek. 

Glancing at the window, Alex noted the bright morning sun shining through. He must have sleep like the dead last night, although at the time he'd been convinced that he wouldn't be able to settle down at all.

"You made breakfast?" he teased, finding his mood getting lighter by the minute. "Don't tell me, warmed up Chinese?" 

Mulder rose to the bait. "I know how to cook. OK," he qualified at Krycek's skeptical look, "I know how to cook waffles. Scully showed me."

"Scully showed you?" Krycek didn't try to hide his amazement.

"Yeah, it's about the only thing she knows how to cook as well," Mulder admitted.

Alex tried to ignore the stab of jealousy he felt at the way Mulder's voice softened when he talked about his partner. 

"Give me ten minutes and I'll be down, OK?" There was no way he was leaving the concealing safety of the bed with Mulder standing there.

"You'd better be quick. I'm a waffle junkie." He started to move away. "Oh, there are clean clothes in the wardrobe. We're pretty much the same size."

"Thanks, I could do with a change." Krycek watched as Mulder left the room, then went to the cupboard and picked out a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Something was wrong. He couldn't figure out what it was, but he knew that Mulder was hiding something from him. Deciding he would find out soon enough, he went to have his shower and tried not to let the building apprehension take hold. 

When he got downstairs he wandered around until he found the kitchen and Mulder, sitting at the table reading the paper.

"You're just in time. Another minute and those waffles were history." Folding the paper, Mulder stood and went to get him some breakfast.

Poring syrup over the waffles, Krycek surreptitiously peered at Mulder from under his lashes until he couldn't take the nervous tension radiating from the other man any longer. 

"What's the matter?"

Mulder halted in the process of pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

"Nothing's the matter," he replied, cursing as he spilt some of the hot brew onto his hand.

"Here, give me that." Taking the pot off of him, Krycek pulled him over to the sink and stuck his hand under the tap, letting the cold water run over the reddened skin. There was a perceptible trembling in the hand he held and Krycek was tempted to raise it to his lips and tender to the minor hurt more personally, but something told him that such action would not be appreciated. 

"There, that should do it." He dabbed a towel around the sore area. "Why don't you just tell me?" 

Mulder tore his hand away. "Eat your waffles."

Krycek shrugged and went back to the table, tucking into the mouth-watering breakfast again. Mulder joined him at the table with his coffee. 

"I've got to go back to Washington."

Krycek paused, then continued eating.

"Did you hear me?" Mulder demanded.

"Yes, I heard you." He cut into another waffle.

"Scully called this morning. People are starting to ask questions. Neither of us can afford to let them find out where I am."

Krycek nodded, "When are you leaving?" Inside he felt a tearing fear building up that made him want to scream out in rage. He showed none of it to the man sitting across from him. 

"Tonight."

Krycek put down is fork. Suddenly the food didn't seem as appetising. "Can I stay here a day or two, just until I get on my feet?"

Mulder looked startled. "You don't have to go. In fact I've asked a friend to come and stay with you until I get back. You still need looking after."

Krycek sat frozen, then he slowly raised his head and looked at Mulder with an expression that the other man couldn't quite decipher. "You're coming back?"

Mulder was genuinely surprised. It had never occurred to him that Krycek would think he was leaving permanently.

"I've rented the house for two months. I thought that would be long enough for you to recover."

"And you intend spending the whole two months with me?" Krycek obviously wanted to be completely sure of where he stood. 

"Well, not the whole two months. I have to get back to work or they'll start to get suspicious, but I thought I could spend weekends here." There was a dull flush under Mulder's skin as he realised how that sounded. "It's in my best interests to get you well. I want what's in your head."

His protest was met with a blinding smile. "Are you sure it's just my head you wanna get into, Mulder?" 

The dull flush deepened and Krycek chuckled at his embarrassment.

"Eat your damned waffles before they get cold," Mulder said, picking up his paper and flicking it open.

Grinning foolishly, Krycek lifted his fork and began to eat again, deciding that maybe today wasn't going to be as bad as he had thought.

**********

The day wore on with Mulder spending a great deal of it making phone calls. Most of the time Krycek left him undisturbed, but he always found some excuse to be near Mulder. If the other man noticed, he didn't comment. It was only the sound of a car pulling up outside that had Krycek nervously seeking cover, watching as Mulder flicked the curtain aside and checked who their visitor was before letting him in. Alex didn't relax until the man was inside and he saw by the ease with which Mulder greeted him that he was no threat.

Still not making his presence known, he watched as the man known as Frohike passed Mulder a package. Unable to see what was in the bag, he frowned as the FBI man quickly took it upstairs and returned empty handed. 

Following them into the sitting room, he noticed with some suspicion the guilty start that Mulder gave at his entrance. It was obvious he was hiding something from him, something to do with the package the other man had brought if he had to take a guess. Making a mental note to investigate the matter further, he waited for Mulder to introduce him to his new baby-sitter.

"Krycek, this is Frohike. He's going to be staying with you weekdays."

The strange little man offered his hand in a friendly fashion and taking it Krycek wondered exactly what Mulder had told him. It was obvious that this Frohike was someone he trusted, which meant that it was more than likely he knew at least something about Alex Krycek. He could see no resentment though in the clear eyes that returned his greeting.

"You'll like having Frohike here, Krycek. He's a gourmet cook. It's one of his little hobbies." Mulder smiled. "Just don't let him try out his ratatouille recipe on you. It's his one failure in life, that and the romantic leanings he has towards Scully."

Frohike didn't seem upset by the gentle ribbing. 

"I've tried using a variation of my usual recipe, Mulder. It's been working much better." 

Mulder didn't look convinced. "What, you mean that you only have a 40 percent mortality rate now?"

The bantering went on for some time, interspersed with tales of paranoia that made even Krycek chuckle. Suddenly it didn't seem so strange to him that Mulder should have this man as a friend. 

Seeing his opportunity, he left them arguing over some papers and went up to Mulder's room. Listening from the landing, he could tell they were still deep in the throes of their discussion. He would never have a better chance.

Opening the door, he glanced around the room to get his bearings, then headed for the suitcase on the bed. It was the most obvious place for Mulder to have stashed the package he'd received, but people often left things in the most obvious places and Mulder was probably intending to take the package with him when he went. Moving underwear around, he felt something hard wrapped in a pair of Mulder's boxers and drew them out, smirking fondly at the image that sprung to mind. As expected he found the package inside. Going to the door to determine that he wasn't likely to be disturbed, he unwrapped the bag and examined the contents.

Identity papers! Everything a person would need to start a new life. He opened the drivers licence made out to Michael Anders ... and found his own face staring back at him. Totally shocked, he sat on the bed, finding his legs unable to offer support. Mulder had got him fake identity papers, good ones if he was any judge. Slowly putting them back in their bag, he carefully wrapped the boxers around them again. Diligently returning them to where he'd found them, he rearranged the clothes and hoped that Mulder wouldn't notice they'd been disturbed.

He felt vaguely dirty. Here he was, going through Mulder's things like some thief, only to find that the man was trying his best to help him stay alive. Trust was not something that came easily to him. He had learnt the hard way that the only person you could be sure was on your side was yourself. It had been so long since someone had done something for him that didn't come with a price tag. Not that he wasn't expecting Mulder to want something from him. It was just that somewhere deep inside himself a voice was telling him that this had nothing to do with any agenda Mulder might have in regard to information about the consortium.

When he went downstairs, Mulder and Frohike seem to have come to some agreement in their previous discussion and were talking about the latest Sci Fi show on television. Mulder glanced at Krycek as he came and sat close beside him on the couch before resuming his conversation on the merits of the technology used in the program. It was a good thing that he couldn't see the look on Krycek's face as he sat and watched Mulder, his eyes revealing everything he felt as he believed himself unobserved. The man sitting across from them both <was> in a position to be able to study the play of emotion on Krycek's face, drawing his own conclusions. He had been willing to come here and keep an eye on Krycek because Mulder had asked it of him, but he was well aware of the part that the man had played in Mulder and Scully's lives. When the FBI man had asked him and his friends to come up with papers that would fool the most discerning eye, they had just assumed that Mulder had made some deal with Krycek for information. Now he wasn't so sure. Maybe the next couple of weeks weren't going to be as boring as he'd first thought.

Soon it came time for Mulder to leave for the airport. He gave final instructions to Frohike and told him to call if anything went wrong. The smaller man just nodded reassuringly and told Mulder to leave it to him. Hesitating for a moment, Mulder glanced down at Krycek.

"I'll be back next Friday, OK?"

Krycek just nodded, refusing to return his look.

Annoyed and slightly hurt, although he would never have admitted it, Mulder stalked out of the room and quickly went upstairs to retrieve his case.

As he was checking to make sure he hadn't left behind anything he might need, he heard a sound at the door. 

"I wanted to say goodbye," Krycek said, closing the door and leaning against it.

Mulder turned his attention to his case and began to play nervously with the lock. "I'll be back next weekend."

Krycek moved further into the room. "You promise?"

The quiet, intense tone caused Mulder to meet his gaze searchingly. "I said I'd be back and I will. You still haven't told me anything I can use yet."

Krycek nodded. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. I owe you. I always pay my debts."

Mulder snatched the case off the bed, not liking the way the conversation was going, even though he was the one who had initiated its tenor. He walked towards the door, intending to brush by Krycek, but was halted by a hand gripping his arm. 

"Mulder."

"What!" he demanded, irked at how even such minor physical contact was able to affect him.

"Make it early Friday, OK?"

Before Mulder could reply, lips tasted his gently, sucking on his mouth, licking over his teeth and leaving him gasping. Abruptly dropping the case, he brought his arms up to imprison his tormentor, but Krycek stepped back, shaking his head and smiling with satisfaction.

"I'll be waiting."

Mulder watched in stunned bewilderment as Alex turned and walked out. Cursing viciously, he picked up his case and stormed out of the room, determined that if he saw Krycek again before he left the man would be sporting a nice bruise courtesy of his fist. But for all his frustrated anger, he could still feel the touch of him on his lips, warm and wet and incredibly exciting. His body was singing with the first stirrings of passion and he wanted nothing more than to take a certain ex-partner and find the nearest flat surface. It was going to be one hell of a long week.

************

Standing at the window upstairs, Krycek never moved as he watched Mulder say his goodbyes to Frohike and get into the cab. But as the car pulled away, his hand slowly began to clench on the cold glass. It was the only sign that he was still alive.

To Be continued.....

\--  
Katy Deery

 

* * *

 

Nope, it's not finished. I'm thinking of putting a little bit of plot in the next one rather than rushing it, so I shall post this part which has lots of angst and, well, sex of course. 

* * *

My Oxygen - Part 2  
Part Three in the Black Lace series  
By Katy Deery

'The air is thick...the flower sweet  
The shadow comes down  
Tonight the moon is at my feet  
And I breathe you in  
I breathe you in....to me.'

Richard Plant 'My Oxygen'

"I hope you're going to give that a decent burial."

Mulder startled out of his daydream and saw his partner looking down at him quizzically. Smiling with a total lack of remorse, he took the rather mangled pencil out of his mouth and tossed it onto the desk in front on him.

"I was just contemplating life, Scully and how sometimes things happen that you don't expect."

Scully looked at him with amused affection. "And there was me thinking you were daydreaming." Her smile faded. "Mulder, you've been distracted all week. It wouldn't have anything to do with this mysterious relative you seem to have suddenly acquired would it?" 

Mulder turned away from those far too perceptive eyes. "It's just a personal matter I have to take care of, Scully. I promise you, I'm not going to be taking off after alien mutants in the middle of the night."

His partner didn't look convinced. "Mulder, I swear, if I find out you've been doing your 'protect Scully' act on me again, I promise to show you some of my less ladylike qualities."

Mulder grinned up at her, but she continued to frown in concern.

"Scully, I'm not trying to ditch you, not this time. Something's going on in my life right now, something that's kinda thrown me for a loop. When I figure it out, you'll be one of the first to know, OK?"

Scully nodded reluctantly. For all their closeness, their personal lives were pretty much separate. Not that either of them had much of a personal life. Scully wondered if this had something to do with a woman. She studied the thought clinically as she did any problem she was faced with and realized that she didn't like the idea of her partner involved with someone. Maybe it was because she was used to being the most important woman in Mulder's life. She hoped though that I had more to do with not wanting to see him get hurt again. She decided to keep a careful eye on Mulder. If the state he'd been in this last week was any indication, this relationship was not a smooth one. It brought all Scully's protective instincts to the fore. Her partner had been damaged enough in his life. Any woman who was adding to his unhappiness would have Scully to deal with. 

She checked her watch. "We'd better get moving if we want to make that 2.15 appointment with Skinner."

Mulder picked a file up off his desk and stood. "Let's not keep him waiting then. He's been on my case all week."

Scully had to smile at the familiar complaint, following her partner from the room. "I think he missed you. It's not as much fun yelling at the rest of us."

But Mulder wasn't concerned with Skinner's reasons. All that worried him was tying up loose ends quickly and getting out to the airport. It had been a <very> long week.

*********

"You'd better come in now, Alex."

Krycek glanced over his shoulder at Frohike, but made no move to obey the summons, merely huddling into his jacket and staring back up at the sky. The gardens that surrounded the house where extensive and in the past week he'd enjoyed the chance to spend time in the fresh, clean air. Now he found no such enjoyment in the lush greenness around him. The mist that was creeping down thicker and thicker as he stood watching it felt as much of an enemy as any he had known in his life. Most of the day he'd been anxiously listening to reports on the radio in the hope that the weather outlook might change. His luck held, bad as usual. Thick freezing fog was predicted for the coming night. Mulder would not be able to fly in as planned that weekend. 

He scowled moodily, not wanting to admit how much that meant to him, how disappointed he was that it might be another week or more before he'd get to see the FBI man again. 

Not that the past week had been all bad, far from it. Frohike was a strange, but oddly entertaining companion and Krycek was actually pleased that Mulder had asked him to stay. That didn't change the fact that he was missing a certain Federal agent in the worst possible way. It was a new sensation. Before it had never been much of a problem not seeing Mulder for months. It had been less easy once they started having sex, but even then he had always accepted that it wasn't going to be a long term relationship. So what had changed? It wasn't as if they had set up housekeeping together. Mulder would keep his end of the bargain, see him back on his feet. He in his turn would provide whatever information he could on the consortium. They might have sex, they probably would have sex if the hunger he had felt in Mulder's kiss was anything to go by, but that was nothing new. It didn't mean a thing. Not to Fox Mulder at least.

He felt an insistent tickle rising in his throat and tried to resist it, but found that only made it worse. The wracking cough that shook him had his companion moving nearer to take his arm. Without thought, well honed reflexes cut in, moving him in an impersonal, lethal arc. The hand that connected sharply with Frohike was a product of years of training and an even more recent quest for survival. The man who now sat in winded pain on the ground was left in no doubt that he was dealing with a very dangerous man.

"I'm sorry." Krycek had the grace to look genuinely contrite, offering his hand to Frohike who took it with ungrudging, if wary, pardon. 

"That's OK, nothing broken." Frohike shivered as the cold, damp chill started to seep through his own clothes. "We still need to get you inside before that cough turns into something really nasty."

Krycek nodded, his mouth grim. With one last, resentful look at the sky, he turned towards the house, mentally calling himself all kinds of a fool for caring so much. But try as he might, the fact remained, he had been looking forward to this weekend much in the way a child looks forward to Christmas. 

Now the holidays were going to have to be canceled due to bad weather. It was no more than he was used to.

********* 

"Check."

Frohike looked surprised, studying the chess board with a puzzled frown.

Krycek smiled to himself. It had been remarkably easy to fool the other man. Playing on his recent ill health for all it was worth, he'd managed to get Frohike to wait on him hand and foot. The man had no idea that each time he left the room, pieces were subtly altered to improve Krycek's chances of winning the match. It was something he would never have tried with Mulder. Anyone with an eidetic memory would have instantly spotted the subterfuge. And that was the whole point of course. Mulder should be here, but Mulder wasn't, and Alex wanted to punish someone for that. It was just Frohike's bad luck that he happened to be the only outlet available for his ill temper.

They both heard the sound of a car approaching at the same time. Krycek pushed his chair back and rose.

"Do you have a gun?"

Frohike looked confused for a second, then went out to the table in the hall and opened the drawer.

"Mulder left this." He passed a Gloch over to Krycek who handled the weapon with professional ease, checking that it was loaded.

They heard the car pull up outside and Krycek ducked behind the door, motioning for Frohike to stay where he was. The tension grew as footsteps approach and Krycek raised the gun in readiness, but they were both startled when they heard a key turn in the lock.

"Well, I wasn't expecting a welcoming committee." A tall lanky form stood silhouetted in the doorway, dropping a well packed hold-all with obvious satisfaction at having finally arrived.

"Mulder!" Frohike greeted, his own tension easing at seeing who their visitor was.

"Sorry I'm late, I...." Mulder's apology cut off in surprise as Krycek came out from behind the door, gun still in his hand.

"How the hell did you get here?" Krycek demanded, momentarily forgetting that only a few minutes before he had been silently bemoaning the absence of the man. "The airports are closed."

Mulder seemed a bit bemused by the interrogation and the fact that Krycek was virtually holding a gun to his face. "I have a friend who owns his own plane. He flew me down."

"You had someone fly you down? In this weather?" The voice was low, a warning of impending storms. 

Mulder didn't understand what the problem was. "Yes, it was pretty dicey, but we made it."

Krycek looked at the gun he still held, then very precisely tucked it into the waistband of his jeans.

"Frohike, I'd like a word with Mulder. Alone."

Frohike glanced at both men nervously before quickly exiting.

Mulder turned to Krycek. "Alex, what..."

He never saw the fist that slammed into his face, but he certainly felt its impact. Thrown up against the wall, he slid down on legs that refused to hold him, only to be hauled back on his feet again.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing, getting someone to fly in this fog?"

Mulder hung in Krycek's grasp, dazed more from the fact that the other man had actually hit him than from the blow itself.

"OK, it was a stupid thing to do. Craig said it would be fine, but you're right, I shouldn't have risked his life like that...."

"Mulder," Krycek interrupted, pressing his face so close that his lips were practically touching Mulder's cheek. "I don't give a flying fuck about your friend."

The implications in that statement went far beyond what Mulder was ready to handle.

"I just wanted to get here. I thought you'd be pleased to see me," Mulder said sulkily, sounding for all the world like a ten year old who didn't understand why the adults were angry with him <this> time. 

"Oh, Mulder." Krycek rested his head against the other man's for a moment, then pulled back, a reluctant smile on his face. "For someone so smart, you can be incredible stupid at times."

Mulder tried a tentative smile. "But you love me any......." His voice trailed off as he realized what he was saying. The face so close to his fell into a mask of stone and Krycek stepped back, releasing him. Mulder pressed against the wall and closed his eyes. Alex was right. He <was> stupid.

"We'd better get that fixed up," Krycek said, his voice clipped, business like.

Mulder pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at the trickle of blood making its way down his chin. Following Krycek into the other room, he sank into a chair gratefully. After a moment Alex returned holding a towel containing ice for the swelling.

"I didn't know you could punch so hard," Mulder complained, cautiously moving his jaw to check nothing was broken.

"All I need is the right incentive. Just remember that next time you're inclined to try something stupid. Here." Krycek offered him the ice pack and stood watching as it was gingerly applied. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, it damn well hurts."

"Good."

Mulder glared at Krycek as he went to sit on the couch. What had ever given him the idea that the man would be pleased to see him?

Suddenly remembering something, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a package. "Here, I brought you this." He tossed the bag over to Krycek who deftly caught it one-handed.

Looking at him questioningly, Krycek open it and took out the contents. It was a large bar of chocolate.

"You said you wanted some, in the hospital. I stopped off at a convenience store on the way. I didn't know what kind to get, so I just picked the biggest."

Krycek sat holding the confectionery, unmoving, and Mulder began to think that something was wrong. Then Krycek looked over at him and the FBI man suddenly found it impossible to turn away.

"You remembered." The voice was harsh, but it was the eyes, those so incredible eyes, that tore into Mulder's soul. Unable to handle the intensity, he was tempted to make light of his actions, but something stopped him, some little voice inside that he rarely listened to, but bowed to on this occasion.

"Yeah, I remembered."

Krycek tore his eyes away from the understanding gaze, quickly jumping to his feet. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up before dinner."

Mulder watched him stride out of the room and hurry upstairs, sighing quietly at how complicated his life had become. Was he ever going to understand the man? Probably not. Smiling to himself, he decided that maybe this was one complication that might turn out to be good for him. Whatever happened in the future, it didn't seem likely that he'd get bored.

***********

Alex threw the clean clothes onto the bed with annoyance. The shower had taken care of his most pressing problem, but had left him unsatisfied and irritable. Why did he always let Mulder get to him like this? Used to being in control, he felt helpless under the emotions that sprung forth whenever he was near his ex-partner. Alex had known from an early age that he was attractive to both sexes. It had been a tool that he was more than ready to use for his own ends. But he had also learnt from an early age not to let emotion get in the way of your objectives. It had never been a problem before and he wasn't sure why it was a problem now, but there was no use denying it. Mulder got to him in ways that he was unable to defend against. If he had any sense he would get as far from the man as possible before things got worse. 

Sinking onto the bed, he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. When had he ever been able to leave Mulder alone? Even before that crazy stunt in the changing room he'd always found some excuse to enter Mulder's life again. It was pathetic, he was pathetic. 

Picking up his jeans, he tugged them on, standing to wiggle sinuously into the clinging material that molded lovingly to his body. Adjusting himself, he wasn't surprised to feel the warm tumescence of his flesh. Christ, even being in the same house with the man was affecting him. He reached for his shirt and pulled it on. It was the best thing he had amongst the clothes that Mulder had left for him, the stark white linen sensuously rough against his skin. He had never worn it before and was well aware of the reason he had chosen it tonight. Stopping to admire himself in the full length mirror, he knew he looked good. Taking only a second to run a comb through hair that he'd deliberately let grow longer, he smiled cockily at his reflection and tried to ignore the nervous anticipation in his eyes. Mulder was here and no matter how incredible stupid it was, all was suddenly right with his world.

************

"It's a good thing he missed your nose."

The easy camaraderie had carried on all through the meal, the bantering light and easy. This was the first time that Frohike had drawn attention to the large bruise that was just starting to come out on Mulder's chin.

"Nah, too much of an easy target. I like a challenge." Alex grinned over at Mulder.

"Hey, enough of the nose jokes, OK?" but there was no real annoyance in Mulder's voice. "So what else have the two of you been doing this week except for eating and going through my video collection?"

"Well, when you arrived we were playing chess. I was just about to beat the pants off your friend here."

Frohike didn't seem bothered by the taunt. "Yeah, Mulder, you should have warned me what a cheat this guy is. Every time I went out of the room he got creative with the chess pieces."

Krycek's eyes narrowed. So the man wasn't as much of a fool as he liked people to believe. He'd have to remember that. 

"I didn't even know he could play chess," Mulder answered, looking at his silent companion enquiringly.

"With you, I don't," Krycek answered, smiling to take the sting out of the words. "Somehow I just know you'd be too good for me."

Mulder was far from immune to the sultry challenge in the dark eyes, but managed to tear his gaze away. "It doesn't surprise me that he cheats though. It's an occupational hazard with Krycek."

As put downs went it was pretty minor, but given their shared history it was enough to tightened Alex's mouth into a bitter line.

Feeling the sudden tension spring up between the two men, Frohike decided it was time to make a strategic retreat.

"Well fellas, it's been a long day and I'm still trying to get back into that dream where Pamela Anderson is rubbing suntan oil all over my body, so I think I'll call it a night."

Both Mulder and Krycek chorused their farewells as Frohike left.

"It's about time we had that talk, don't you think? I need a few answers from you." Mulder's voice was quiet, all business now. Krycek could only nod in agreement and follow him into the other room. Settling into a chair by the fire, he watched the flames as they crackled and danced mesmerizingly, glad for the warmth that flowed through into his bones. He eyed Mulder warily in the flickering light as the man pored them both a brandy and handed one to him. Turning the crystal glass in his hand, he watched the liquid refract into bronze jewels as he tipped it towards his mouth. 

"I want you to tell me everything you know about the consortium."

Here it was, the time Alex had been dreading. They had a deal though and he had no intention of breaking it. He just didn't know if he was ready to handle the fallout that was bound to occur.

"Did you ever read my file?"

"Yes, after you cut out. I discounted most of it."

Krycek smiled. "Yeah, well, the FBI stuff was true. I did go through Quantico." Krycek settled back in his chair, finding it strange to talk about a life that was so far behind him now. "My parents were Russian scientist who defected to the States in the sixties. I was born shortly after they arrived here. Their particular field of expertise was bio-genetics. About a year after they arrived they were approached by the group you know as the consortium. They wanted them to work on a special project." 

This was more than Mulder was expecting. He had thought that Krycek was just another grunt that the consortium had working for them. "Your parents were members of the team that was dealing with extra-terrestrial biology?"

"Yes, for a time. You have to understand, Mulder, they were just so grateful to be out of Russia they didn't question what was asked of them...at least not at first. After a while though they began to realize where their work was leading." 

Krycek stood up and restlessly began to pace. Mulder was reminded of a caged panther, deadly, contained, just waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

"They began to demand answers, refused to complete experiments. They became a liability." Krycek's tone hushed with remembered pain. Mulder could guess what was coming.

"They were killed?"

Krycek glanced his way, nodded. "Yeah, they were killed. The man who was running their part of the project ordered them to be illuminated. They made it look like a random break-in. Blew their brains out over the breakfast serial."

"You were there?" Mulder asked, shocked by the idea of Krycek witnessing his parents' murder.

"I was sitting at the table with them. I can still remember mama telling me to hurry and finish my food or I'd never grow up to be big and strong like my papa." His eyes closed, trying to hold in the horror he had lived with every day since then. "I remember the sound they made as they died...her blood hitting my face. I was eight years old."

"Jesus!" Mulder stood up, wanting to offer comfort, but something stopped him from approaching Krycek. Feeling useless, he sat down again.

"I thought they were going to kill me too, but they had other orders. I was taken to a facility and left there. They fed me, clothed me. I guess I was in shock. I don't remember much of that time, only the white walls. I still hate being locked in anywhere." He stopped and took another long swallow of the brandy. "The next few years aren't very interesting. I was handed over to a couple who fostered me. They were with the consortium of course. I was given a new name, a new identity, and I was never left in any doubt that if I talked about what had happened I would end up the same way as my parents. When I was old enough they started to train me in the basics of hand-to-hand combat, weaponry, that kind of thing. I went to college like everyone else, even lost my virginity in the back of a Ford. All quite normal. Eventually I ended up at Quantico." He looked at Mulder, noting with almost clinical detachment the white faced attention he was being subjected to. "By then I was the perfect little robot. I was ready to lie, cheat, kill. Anything they wanted me to do, I would have done it. I did do it." He went over and looked down at Mulder, a strange expression on his face. "Then I met you." 

Mulder licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry.

 "I don't know if they always planned on using me against you or if I just happened to be there at the right time. My instructions were clear. Keep an eye on you and report back anything relevant." 

"Your brief was just to keep tabs on me?" Mulder asked, determined to maintain as impersonal an approach as possible in the circumstances.

"Yes, and to see if I could find out where you were getting your information from. They knew there was a leak and that it had to be at a pretty high level. As it happened I didn't have time to find out much that was useful."

"No, you just handed them Scully like some sacrificial lamb." He bit his lip in frustration. Now was not the time to bring up old resentments, not if he wanted Krycek to continue to give him the information he needed.

"I barely knew Scully. What do you want me to say, Mulder?" Krycek demanded brutally. "That I've spent the nights since then tossing and turning over what I did to Scully? Sorry, but I would have done far worse than that if they'd asked me. Obeying their orders was what I was taught to do, no questions. There may be a few things that give me sleepless nights, but Scully isn't one of them."

"And I don't suppose my father is either?" Mulder gave up any pretense of detachment. Some wounds were just too deep.

There was silence. Krycek simply stood there, answering Mulder's accusing stare with icy coldness.

"Aren't you going to tell how you didn't kill my father?" Meant as a taunt, it came out more as a plea, Mulder needing a way to forgive himself for feelings he had no control over, feelings that should have been impossible towards this man who had hurt the people he loved most in the world.

"I know what you want, Mulder. You need someone to punish for what happened to your family. I wanted that too. I wanted to kill the man who ordered my parents' death. It was the one goal I had as I was growing up, that and just trying to survive long enough to achieve it. All the time I was being trained, all the time I was being molded into the consummate soldier, it was only for one purpose in my mind. That someday I would find that man and kill him."

Krycek reached down and lifted Mulder's face to his own. "Then one day I was given a name and everything fell into place."

Confusion chased across Mulder's features, then he comprehended what Krycek was trying to tell him.

"No...." Mulder made to pull away, but Krycek's fingers tightened.

"You want to know what that name was, Mulder?" Krycek's smile was a travesty. "But you already know, don't you? Smart Mulder...just like his father."

"NO!" It was almost a scream, the denial so strong. Mulder's single thought was to strike out and stop the words he refused to believe. "No!" He jumped at Krycek, his momentum pushing them both to the floor where he continued to rain blows onto his tormentor. Krycek lay impassive, making no effort to stop Mulder, merely fielding the punches to his face. He let the anger work itself through until Mulder knelt over him breathless, spent, his exhaustion both physical and mental. Then he caught the weakly flaying hands and pressed them into passivity, pulling Mulder down into a tight embrace that the other man was too drained to fight.

"You lying bastard. You lying, lying bastard," Mulder sobbed, his struggles ineffectual.

"You knew, didn't you?" Krycek whispered, smoothing his hands over Mulder's back in comfort. "You knew that your father was part of it. That he'd always been part of it." He felt Mulder press into his chest as if trying to keep the world at bay a little longer. "I'm sorry," Krycek murmured, understanding at last. "I'm so, so sorry." 

"He tried to tell me that last night," Mulder choked, his warm breath hardly stirring the smooth cloth of Krycek's shirt. "He knew what I'd find on the DAT tape. What I'd find out about him."

Krycek remembered that half-heard conversation. "They wanted him out of the way. I was the perfect tool. They showed me my mother's diaries. He was mentioned. I knew he was the one."

"So it was revenge? You killed him for revenge?" Mulder looked up and even now, after all that had been said, Krycek could still see the accusation on his face.

"He killed hundreds of people with his experiments, Mulder," he defended, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. 

Those soul deep eyes wept at him, luminous with pain.

"He was my father," Mulder whispered, relentlessly holding on to that one fact.

"That was the only thing that made me hesitate." 

Mulder pulled away and stood up, looking down at Krycek where he lay, waiting for whatever would come now. He saw the devastation on Mulder's face, a hurt far beyond that which he was capable of dealing with and wanted nothing more than to take the pain into himself, to wipe this man clean of all the hate and the evil that the world had shown him. He would have done anything to cast out the devils he saw on that tragic, haunted face, knowing himself the stronger and wanting to share his strength with this vulnerable soul.

Slowly Mulder turned and walked to the table, picking up the gun that Krycek had placed there earlier. Watching him with a fatalistic torment of his own, Krycek rose to his feet, but didn't try and approach Mulder. Maybe this was inevitable. Maybe this was the only way it could end, for both of them.

He waited, calm now, as Mulder raised the gun and pointed it at his chest, meeting the dead eyes that peered back at him from the abyss. He watched the finger tense, pull back.

"I love you." It was the last honesty he could offer Mulder, for in that moment he knew it was true, had been true for longer than he'd been willing to admit, and only now, when it was too late, was he able to speak the words.

A spasm of pain contorted Mulder's features and the arm holding the gun trembled and fell. The weapon plunged from lifeless fingers to land with a dull thud on the floor at the FBI man's feet.

Krycek took a step forward, drawn by the empty, frightening blankness on Mulder's face, then two, three, until he could fold the taut body into his arms, holding him, just holding him, ready to do anything if it would save this man a moment's more suffering.

He maneuvered the stiff body towards the couch, pushing Mulder onto it. Reaching over for the abandoned glass of brandy, he pressed it to Mulder's lips.

"Drink." It was a gentle command, but one that broached no argument and after a second's hesitation, Mulder opened his mouth and allowed Krycek to pore a little of the fiery liquid passed his lips. Some of the liquor dribbled out of his mouth and down his chin and Krycek could not resist the temptation. Discarding the glass, he leant over and softly licked at the trickle, tasting the burning spirit and the underlying salty texture of skin. His lips moved around, rubbing at the stubbly flesh and tendering an unspoken apology for the darkening bruise. Turning Mulder's head, he held the unresponsive man as he traversed his face, kissing his brow, his eyelids, his cheek, trying to bring life back to the lifeless. In time his own hunger came to the fore and slowly Mulder gave way under the pressure of insistent hands, falling back across the couch, Krycek's hot, demanding body blanketing him. Clumsy fingers dealt with buttons too slow to cooperate, exposing flesh that felt frighteningly cold. Rolling, they tumbled to the floor, Krycek hardly pausing in his reckless search for some reaction to his touch.

"Please, please, I'm sorry. Don't hate me. Please don't hate me." Krycek barely knew what he was saying. He watched in disbelief as droplets hit the skin under his hands, rivulets of emotion that he had thought himself incapable of. He hadn't cried since he was eight years old. Ashamed of his own vulnerability, he would have torn himself away, but then he felt the first tentative stroke of hands across his back and stilled, waiting, breath held.

A hand raised to cup his head and pull him closer and he dared to meet the eyes that looked up at him, no longer empty but soft, calm. Clean. The pain was still there, but so was acceptance and with that the freedom to acknowledge the truth at last.

"I understand."

Krycek shook his head, not sure what the other man meant and still trying to fight back his tears.

"Shhh, no more. No more now," Mulder whispered softly. "Just love me. I need you to love me."

Krycek willingly gave in to the hand that urged his face closer. Their lips met, opening, flowing into and over one another until all that they were, everything that remained unexpressed, became fused in this one action. Total, complete. Soon other passions demanded attention and their figures writhed and jostled, pulling at clothing with an increasing desperation. It was as though this was their first time, and perhaps it was. Perhaps love gives everyone a second chance.

When they were finally naked, Mulder opened his legs and settled Krycek between his thighs, holding his waist and smiling up at him trustingly. Krycek thought he had never seen anything so beautiful. Catching hold of the penis that was flaring to life beneath him, he pressed it next to his own, smoothing his hand down their length. Spreading himself over Mulder, he took his lips again, licked his tongue across the delicious pout, the determined chin. Nudging Mulder's head to one aside, he sucked on his neck, leaving a red brand of possession on the white skin. Letting everyone know that this man was his and he would kill to protect him.

Mulder ran fingertips over his shoulders, traced the hollow of his back, the rise of his buttocks. Cupping the soft roundness, he tugged Krycek closer, driving a moan from his lover as their flesh met with electrifying suddenness.

Using his arms as leverage, Krycek thrust against him, twisting his hips and throwing his head back in abandon as new sensations flooded his senses. Hands urged him on, slipping between his buttocks to finger the entrance of his body, teasing, but not entering. Krycek grunted, wiggling against the finger to signal his pleasure at the touch. Mulder's legs wrapped around his thighs, rubbing along their length as two rigid cocks pressed hotly between them, leaving wet trails on their bellies.

Krycek looked down at the seductive creature beneath him, wild, and in these few moments, totally free, mouth open, hungry for his touch, demanding it as his right. He ran his hand over the slick, sweat coated chest in ownership, rubbing across the hard nubs of flesh, then leant over to tease one with his mouth. He moved easily with the surge his actions produced, sucking and nipping before relinquishing the nipple with one last fond caress.

"I'm going to make you come for me now." There was no doubt in Krycek's voice, only a promise to be fulfilled.

"Yes," was Mulder's husky reply as he offered up everything to his lover.

Kneeling over him, Krycek collected the precum that had gathered between them and reached under to prepare himself, his eyes holding Mulder's as he pressed his fingers into his body. Positioning Mulder's throbbing sex, he bore down, his strong legs straining as they slowly lowered his weight.

A long moan escaped his lips as Mulder penetrated his body. Faced creased in pain, he welcomed the discomfit, punishing himself for a thousand things that he would have done differently had the world ever given Alex Krycek a chance. Mulder's hands stroked his hips, wordlessly asking if he was all right. Gradually adjusting to the pressure, he smiled reassuringly at his lover, a smile so sweet and innocent that it took Mulder's breath away. Then he gasp for an entirely different reason as Krycek pressed down, enveloping more of him until finally he came to rest at the juncture of Mulder's thighs, laughing at the FBI man in triumphant delight to be so filled, so totally possessed. Then it began, the slow rise and fall as Krycek rode him, clutching at his own painfully hard cock and working the flesh in tandem with his movements. Mulder soon tore his hand away and took over the smooth rhythm on Krycek's flesh, cupping the younger man's balls with a knowing touch. Krycek tossed his head back, whimpering, crying out his passion as he felt Mulder move inside him. Where he belonged. Where he had always belonged. Bending over, he ran his hands up Mulder's chest, tracing the straining veins in his neck, touching the lips that lay open in wordless passion. They sucked at his fingers, inviting them in, and somehow the erotic stimulation mingled with the sensation of being pieced, making him groan as a wash of sexual heat overcame him.

The erratic jerk of the hips under his signaled Mulder's impending lose of control and Krycek used his free hand to encourage a firmer touch on his cock as he sank and rose, hoping that they might reach climax together. He felt every inch of the swelling column held within him, felt the first soft pulse. Mulder cried out, thrusting his hips desperately, breaking the rhythm, but Krycek knew only joy as Mulder sobbed his release, gloriously feeling the hot spurts shooting into his body and filling him. Arching his spine as the tingling explosion became too incredible to hold back, Krycek offered his own essence to his lover, splashing white streaks of come over the glistening chest below him, thrusting and twisting his hips as primeval forces took control and drove him to mark what was his and only his.

As the last spurts died away, Krycek slumped onto Mulder with panting exhaustion and the demands made on a body still not back to its former health. Slickness spread between them, gliding across their bodies and Krycek sighed in regret as Mulder's cock slipped from inside him leaving him empty. He felt Mulder's come seep out of his body and trickle down between his thighs and wanted to taste it, to lick himself clean and shamelessly enjoy the flavor of this man, but he was too worn out to do more than hold Mulder in his arms and press him tight.

"Are you OK?" 

Krycek reluctantly pulled himself out of the sexual lethargy he was descending into. "I think you may have killed me," he chuckled in reply, happier than he could ever remember being in his life.

"I don't want to kill you." There was no answering humor in the statement.

"I know. I'm glad."

Mulder raised his head and looked at him solemnly. "I think I'm falling in love with you." 

The honesty was almost painful and Krycek closed his eyes, feeling the sting of tears once more. Burrowing against Mulder, he kissed his neck and lay his cheek against the soft drum of his heart. 

"I think you already have."

*************

To Be Continued - What will happen in the clear light of day??  
\--   
Katy Deery  
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<>  
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* * *

 

OK, since it's been awhile since I posted the last part, here's a recap of what happened last time. Krycek was waiting for Mulder to come down for the weekend, which he manages at some risk to himself. That night Krycek admits that he did kill Bill Mulder, but that he had been responsible for murdering Krycek's parents. Mulder threatens to kill Krycek and Alex is going to let him, but Mulder can't go through with it. In shock over what he's found out, Mulder is comforted by Alex and for the first time they open up about their feelings for one another. They make love, but what will the new day bring?  
This is an original piece of fiction and I have not knowingly stolen anyone else's ideas or words, honest. If any infringement has occurred on another writer's domain, believe me, it was purely accidental.   
Many thanks to my two beta readers, Jane and Connie.  
Archive to: MKRA/MSSS and Nicci's UST Alliance page ONLY

* * *

My Oxygen   
Part Three  
By Katy Deery

I take each breath as if it is my first  
I hold it there deep inside me  
Until I'm bound to burst  
I speak each word as if it is your name  
I move my lips...taste the moment  
Still it sounds the same  
Your hand moves and so does mine  
Our hearts beat  
Our bodies keep in time

Richard Page 'My Oxygen'

Sometimes his dreams were so terrifying that he thought he would die in them, that his heart would stop pumping, that he would forget to breathe. Sometimes fatigue would pull so relentlessly at him that not even the nightmares could wake him. But this was different. He felt like he was enveloped in warm velvet, safe, protected, utterly content. He wanted to remain in this world forever, but as with all things he desired, it was not to be. And with this last, sad acceptance, he awoke.

*******

Krycek turned over in the bed, already reaching for a presence he could no longer feel. The sheets felt cold, no lingering heat to indicate recent occupation. Opening his eyes in resignation, he confirmed what his senses had already told him. He was alone. Hearing the crackling of paper as he moved and feeling something under his hand, he frowned in confusion as he noticed the large manila envelope that lay resting on the pillow beside him. His momentary puzzlement cleared as he recognized that the package was the same one he had so covertly inspected in Mulder's suitcase. 

Sitting up quickly, he opened the envelope, scanning the contents to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, it was the documents he had seen before, only this time accompanied by a thick wad of fifty dollar bills. Tossing them aside, he tried to bank down the rage that was filling him. The message was clear. Mulder's timing as always was impeccably bad, but then in all fairness would there ever have been a good time for this? Mulder wanted him out of his life, that was the one clear statement Alex read in this action. He supposed he should be grateful. He'd just gotten the best night of sex he'd ever had, and now he was being given a chance to disappear. Implicit in these gifts of course was the fact that he would have to stay out of Mulder's life from now on. To gain the very freedom you desired only to take stupid risks with it would be foolish, and no doubt many would consider it a fair price to pay for anonymity. 

He felt the bite of the papers in his hand and carefully unclenched his fist, flinging them across the bed. Suddenly just the thought of touching them was more than he could bear. Sliding out from under the covers, he stood up smoothly, unselfconscious in his nakedness. He had only one aim, to find Mulder. What he would do when he found the other man was anyone's guess.

About to start his search, he paused and listened, smiling grimly when he heard the soft patter of the shower in the bathroom. So Mulder hadn't gone far. He might live to regret that. Pushing open the door with a serenity he was far from feeling, he saw a shadowy form moving behind the curtain. Even now he was helpless to stop the stirring of lust the sight produced, but he didn't let it distract him. They needed to settle this, once and for all.

Tearing the shower curtain aside, he was perversely pleased to see his lover jump in surprise. He'd have Mulder doing more than that before he was through with him.

"Alex, I didn't..."

The greeting was cut short as Krycek stepped into the shower stall, forcing Mulder to accommodate his bulk in the confined space. Not that the FBI man looked annoyed by this turn of events. In fact if the rather licentious grin on his face was anything to go by, he was far from objecting to the invasion.

"Looks like..." Mulder began, eyes dropping to where Alex's erection was growing with eager intent.

"Shut up!"

Now Mulder did turn a slightly confused gaze on Krycek, seeming to have at last picked up the angry vibes the other man was emitting. 

"Alex?"

"I said shut up." The caution was accompanied by a shove that drove Mulder back forcefully into the wall, his feet sliding dangerously under him on the slippery surface below.

"Watch it," Mulder said as he steadied himself against the controls.

Krycek ignored him. "What did you think, Mulder? That I needed payment for last night? Alex was a good little boy, so let's give him his treat? No, of course not. You've had those papers for a while, haven't you? So this was more of a 'So long, Alex, it's been swell' kind of thing was it? I'm just supposed to walk out of your life before things get any more complicated."

"Alex, you want to take that from the top? Because right now I don't know what the <hell> you're talking about."

Krycek laughed mockingly, "And I suppose the tooth fairy left those papers on the pillow for me to find. Better than a dollar bill any day, Mulder." He crowded closer, pushing Mulder up against the shower controls as the water cascaded down his back in beating rivulets. He barely noticed it, too caught up in his righteous anger. He wanted the anger, needed it. When the anger stopped, then the pain would begin and he had to be far away from Mulder and this house before it hit him.

"No, it was the tooth fairy's night off." 

You had to give Mulder credit. He had guts. 

"You couldn't even wait, could you? Just a couple of days, that's all. I would have left if that's what you wanted, but at least we could have had a little time together. Was that too much to ask? Do you hate me that much?"

Mulder looked at him uneasily. "I don't know what you're getting at, Krycek. I told you I don't hate you."

Krycek just shook his head. "No, you said you don't want to kill me anymore. That's not the same."

"It is to me." With a lack of caution that Mulder showed in all aspects of his life, he leant over and licked Krycek's chin.

"Don't do that!" Krycek bellowed, pushing against Mulder's chest.

Mulder looked completely unrepentant. "Why not?"

Krycek grimaced, fighting his own body's response to this unfamiliarly playful side of Mulder.

"Because I'm mad and I want to stay mad."

"Why?" Mulder asked again, moving in for the throat this time and sucking enthusiastically on the large vein that throbbed with life. Suddenly he could appreciate the attraction of vampirism.

"Mulder!" Alex groaned as that so talented mouth worked on him. This really hadn't been what he'd intended, but he was damned if he was going to call a halt now. His balance at best precarious on the water slick surface, he cried out in panic as he began toppling backwards, only to find himself caught by solid arms. Unfortunately Mulder was only able to partially break his descent, landing on top of his lover with a soft 'ooff' that left them both winded.

"Well, that's my one chance at having kids gone," Mulder croaked out as he moved the more delicate parts of his anatomy away from Krycek's bony knee.

"You want kids?" Krycek asked, his mind momentarily distracted from the pain of impact.

Mulder looked down at him, wondering how he managed to get himself in these situations. He was lying in a bathtub with someone who up until recently had been one of his most hated enemies. They had spent the night together having hot, sweaty and extremely enjoyable sex. Even for someone with his rather lateral thought processes it was pretty hard to figure. "I've never thought about it much."

Krycek didn't believe him. "Everyone thinks about it, even people who never intend having any."

Mulder sighed, "I mean I've never thought about it seriously. I don't live the kind of life where I have that option."

"But if you did," Krycek persisted, "if you had the picket fence and the little white house, you'd want children too, right?"

Mulder could see that this was important to the younger man, although for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. "What do you want me to say, Alex? That I wish my life was normal?" Mulder smiled whimsically. "You know, I don't think I'd recognize normal if I tripped over it and fell on my ass." He shifted so that not so much of his weight was bearing down on the naked man under him. "So to answer your question, no, I don't want kids. Not in this lifetime."

Alex settled back and gazed up at him. Mulder found it impossible to interpret his expression and suddenly missed the openness of the night before.

"Don't do that. Don't shut yourself away from me. Not now."

Krycek closed his eyes. "You're gonna rip my heart out, Mulder"

Mulder leant over and kissed him softly. "I don't want to hurt you," he murmured. 

Krycek's chuckle was shaky, but he opened his eyes again and faced Mulder's questioning stare. "You already have."

"How? I don't understand." Mulder felt his earlier good humor fade away as he saw the bitterness return to Krycek's face.

"If you wanted me to leave, you just had to tell me. Leaving those papers for me to find was a shitty thing to do, but I guess you think I deserve it, don't you?"

"The papers," Mulder repeated, puzzled. It was obvious that Krycek had read meanings into his actions that he had never intended. "I thought you'd be pleased." 

Krycek struggled out from under him. "What, payment for services rendered? I didn't know I was that good." Finally managing to force Mulder off of him, he staggered out of the shower stall.

"Alex..!"

Krycek turned on him angrily. "I won't be your whore, Mulder."

The FBI man knelt and watched in openmouthed shock as Krycek stalked from the room. Standing, he turned off the shower, but it was some few seconds before he followed the enraged man into the other room.

Alex was toweling himself dry when Mulder attacked and so was unprepared for the force that pummeled into him and sent him flying onto the bed. Flesh that had barely recovered from previous abuse protested vigorously, but there was no gainsaying the man who bore down on him with unflinching purpose.

"You stupid little scum-sucking piece of trash. Why the hell I fell in love with someone as stupid as you has gotta be one of the great mysteries of the universe. And if you ever talk to me like that again, I'll put you back in hospital with more broken bones than they'll even be able to count."

"You love me?"

Mulder was completely thrown by the blinding smile that came over Alex's face. They were in the middle of an argument here for chrissakes. Couldn't the man play by the rules for just once in his life?

"I didn't say that." 

"Yes you did," Krycek contradicted with confidence, his expression smug enough to make Mulder want to carry out his threat of injury.

Mulder leaped up off the bed, leaving a disappointed Krycek in his wake.

"Where are you going?" Alex asked plaintively as Mulder stormed over to the closet. "Mulder!" he protested as he saw his lover starting to get dressed in black denim shirt and jeans. He glanced down to where his body stood at half mast and sighed dramatically. <Looks like it's disappointment city for you, pal. Maybe you should join a union or something.>

He lay there in all his naked glory as Mulder dressed, half hoping the sight of him sprawled across the bed might change Mulder's mind, but the other man did a good job of ignoring him. Alex decided it was better not to push matters. He was content enough with the declaration, albeit a reluctant one, and if the words frightened Mulder, well, that was OK too. The only reason he would have to fear them was if they were true.

As Mulder left the room, Alex decided to duck back into the shower for a proper wash, then got dressed and made his way downstairs. In the kitchen Frohike was serving flapjacks and Krycek happily sat on the chair beside Mulder. He rarely ever ate in the kitchen, even on the few occasions when the opportunity presented itself. Too many memories associated with breakfast in this particular room. For some reason though, it didn't bother him that morning. His demons were held at bay and he could only put it down to the presence of the man seated beside him. As Mulder pushed the plate of flapjacks towards him, Alex smiled to himself and scooped up an ample amount, pouring the thick maple syrup over them until even Mulder was looking a little queasy.

Unabashed, he cut off a large slice and stuffed it in his mouth as Mulder looked on in disgust, shaking his head as he started on his own breakfast.

"So what have you got planned for today?" Krycek asked around a particularly large mouthful.

Mulder picked an imaginary speck of flapjack off his shoulder and flicked it at Krycek's plate. "I thought you could show me around if you're up to it. Frohike tells me that you've been going on walks in the woods out back."

Krycek glanced over at Frohike as he settled down for his own portion of the flapjacks.

"Yeah, OK, there is somewhere I'd like you to see." He glanced out the window. It looked a fine morning, no sign of the inclement weather of the day before. 

"Just so long as it's not weird. I've had enough of strange things lurking in damp, dark places."

Krycek looked at him in surprise. "I thought you lived for that kinda stuff?"

"I do, but just once it would be nice to find some new form of life residing in a luxury apartment in Palm Beach."

"Mulder, if you haven't managed to find something strange lurking in the suburbs of Palm Beach, then you've not been trying very hard."

They shared a smirk, like two naughty schoolboys who'd just made a joke at their teacher's expense, while Frohike looked on indulgently, pleased to see Mulder happy for once.

Once the meal was over, Mulder hanging back and watching in amazement as Krycek put away enough food for the whole of the Washington Redskins, Frohike ushered them impatiently out of 'his' kitchen, already mentally planning the meal for that evening.

"Here."

Krycek caught the muffler that Mulder threw him in mid air.

"What's this for?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"You've only just got out of hospital. If we're going for a walk you're gonna need that."

Krycek leered at him, "Somehow I don't see leather and wool as a winning combination, Mulder."

"You either put it on or we don't go." 

Inclined to argue, Krycek was amazed to find himself unzipping his jacket and wrapping the muffler around his neck. It almost reminded him of the days when he and Mulder were partners, the other man playing senior agent to the hilt and bossing him around mercilessly. He'd taken it at the time because it was his job to take it, but that wasn't the case anymore. Why was he allowing Mulder to get away with it now? <Because it shows he cares about you and you want him to care about you.> The answer was quick and honest, painfully honest. Putting too much faith in Mulder's feelings for him was a mistake. The man had priorities in his life that came before anything else, certainly before one shop-worn ex-partner who had proved less than trustworthy in the past. He knew that at some time in the near future he and Mulder would go their separate ways, Mulder back to his job with the FBI and Krycek to who knew where. Last night hadn't changed the way things had to be and the wisest course of action on his part would be to cut his losses and leave now, before he got even deeper into this odd relationship of theirs. <But I'm not going to. I'm going to take what I can get, as often as I can get it until time runs out and to hell with the consequences.> He zipped his jacket up again, almost laughing as Mulder gave a nod of approval. Mulder mother henning him was proving to be a novel experience.

They set out at a stroll across the well kept lawn, heading towards the woods set just behind the house. It was a fine day, the sun clear and bright and hot, making the world around them turn into a cornucopia of colors and shades. Krycek thought about shedding his jacket the better to enjoy the warm heat. It seemed a reflection of the turn his life had taken, the mist of the evening before replaced by the startling brightness of a new day. He wondered when he had had the time to become so poetic, but decided there was no harm in letting his thoughts wander a little in appreciation of his surroundings and this so rare of quiet times.

At first they just walked, the silence between then comfortably shared. Then Krycek caught his companion's arm and turned him slightly towards a path branching off from the one that they were already on.

"I want to show you something," he gave by way of explanation and Mulder shrugged and followed. The hand on his arm was not removed, but he didn't complain, allowing the oddly intimate contact.

The trees narrowed and it got darker and Mulder was just about to question the wisdom of the venture when they stepped out into an open clearing. Traversing the center of it was a small lake, the soft, lapping sound of the water in complete harmony with the setting. The trees seemed alive with reds and golds that glowed in the dazzling sunlight. The grass was the greenest Mulder had ever seen, only the yellow scattering of buttercups marring the verdant carpet. 

Catching Krycek looking at him expectantly, he smiled. "It's pretty."

"Pretty!" 

There was a wealth of disappointment in the word and Mulder felt almost guilty, as if he'd somehow failed a test he wasn't even aware of taking.

"It's <very> pretty," he tried again, but the moment was lost.

"Mulder, you have no soul," Krycek accused in disgust. Striding over to the tree that hung almost dipping into the water, Alex stretched out below it, closing his eyes in meditation, content it seemed to totally ignore his companion.

After a moment, Mulder joined him, sitting near, but not quite in the shade of the tree's branches. "You shouldn't be lying there like that. The ground's probably damp." He got no reply. "You need to be careful or you'll find yourself back in the hospital."

This time Krycek did deign to turn and peer at him through one disdainful eye. "Mulder, why don't you shut the fuck up."

Mulder found himself grinning, much preferring the verbal abuse to being tuned out. Moving slightly closer, he plucked a blade of the long grass and chewed on it absentmindedly. When was the last time he had taken the opportunity to sit back and just enjoy mother nature the way it was intended? He couldn't remember. So much of his life was taken up with things that went far outside of what would be considered normal and he rarely took the time to appreciate the beauty of creation. Not that sitting here next to this particular man was exactly normal, but he wasn't inclined to complain. Reassured that life as he knew it was not going to fall apart all around him, Mulder settled back to enjoy the quiet contemplation offered.

"Tell me about when you were a kid."

The doze that Mulder had been gently falling into was disturbed by the soft query. He seriously thought about pretending he was asleep, but somehow he didn't think it would work.

"What exactly is happening here, Krycek? You think that because you told me about your sad childhood I'm going to return the favor?"

The scornful turn of his voice was deliberate, a useful tool to keep people away from places he didn't want them going, and this was certainly one place he was <very> reluctant to let anyone go.

"No, I just think you need to talk about it with someone who can understand what you went through."

Mulder's look was derisive. "And that's you? I don't think so. We have nothing in common, Krycek."

"So your childhood was mom's apple pie and junior league? Come on, Mulder, we both know what a bastard your father was."

"Enough!" Mulder sprang to his feet, his agitation apparent "Whatever my relationship was with my father, it's none of your business. I may admit that you have a genuine reason to hate my dad, but I'm not prepared to discuss him with you."

Krycek's gaze turned speculative as he looked up at Mulder. "OK, I accept that. For now anyway."

Krycek stood up next to him, immune to the scowl Mulder was directing his way, and gave a leisurely stretch. As he unzipped his jacket and started on his shirt, he surreptitiously kept an eye on Mulder for his reaction, pleased by the confused agitation that was beginning to suffuse the other man's face. 

"What are you doing?" Mulder asked, wondering when he'd passed into the Twilight Zone.

"Taking my clothes off," came the offhand reply.

"I can see that, what I don't know is <why>," Mulder demanded with irritation.

Krycek grinned at him over his shoulder as he set to pulling off his jeans and underwear. "Ever been skinny-dipping, Mulder?"

Mulder's look of horror was answer enough. As Krycek threw the last of his clothes on the grass and took a few cautious steps towards the water, Mulder jerked out of his passivity and stumbled forward to stop him. "You can't go in there. The water's freezing."

Krycek ignored him, taking the first tentative move down the bank and into the beckoning lake. The initial icy touch of the dark water was enough to make him regret his decision, but he was unwilling to admit that maybe Mulder had a point. Throwing caution to the wind and deciding that a quick immersion might be better than this slow torture, he spread his arms and dove into the freezing depths. 

He vaguely heard a shout from behind him, but the sound was lost in the onrush of waves as he sunk below the icy depths, shock taking his breath away so that it was a struggle to think of anything except the exhilarating cold that encompassed him. He shot to the surface, seeking air and a response to his recklessness, satisfied at seeing Mulder marching back and forth along the bank, his face an odd mixture of anger and concern.

"Get the hell out of there, Krycek. Are you crazy? You've got to be crazy." 

Krycek waved to him and did a few strokes, just enough to show that he could, then casually made his way towards the bank again. In truth the water <was> too cold and he was freezing his balls off, but he was prepared to turn into a popsicle rather than let Mulder know that.

As Alex rose out of the water and started to walk towards the edge of the bank, Mulder found his anger draining away, completely entranced by the sight before him. Krycek's form glistened in the sun, his lean, hard body something fashioned by the gods to tempt men's souls into damnation. Mulder felt helpless under the pull of its attraction as his eyes ran up the muscular curve of leg, across the thatch of dark hair that spread in stark contrast over the pale skin, to the pendulous sex that swayed as Alex moved, seemingly issuing an invitation for Mulder to reach out and touch it. The man was beautiful, that was the only word to describe him, and in that moment Mulder wanted nothing more than to lay him down and kiss every inch of the body that was displayed before him with such wanton calculation. He caught the knowing look in Krycek's eyes and blushed slightly, aware that all his thoughts were written on his face as plain and as searingly absolute as the day. 

Shrugging out of his jacket, he pulled off his denim shirt and held it out. Krycek just walked into his arms as if that was the place he was always meant to be. Mulder wrapped the rough cloth around him, chaffing warmth back into the cold, damp skin. Krycek stood facing him, unmoving within his embrace, their mouths sharing the same air. Mulder felt renewed heat surge into his groin and his strokes gentled, slowing, caressing the fascinating creature under his hands. Krycek moved even closer, pressing into him, and Mulder simply locked his arms around the pliant body as it sank against his own.

"You need to get some clothes on," he murmured, but made no move to release his grip.

"You need to get some clothes off," was the amused reply as Krycek licked his collar bone, making him shiver as the hot tongue tasted his skin and damp nipples surged against his chest.

"Someone might see us," but Mulder's protest was faint.

"Lucky them." 

Krycek nipped his shoulder playfully and Mulder was in no doubt of the other man's arousal as flesh started to firm and nudge against his own answering hardness. He felt a hand reach for his belt just as Krycek's lips took his, the kiss open and wet and vital. A tongue fluttered in his mouth and jostled for acceptance and he sucked it in, welcoming the invader. The fingers that flattened against his stomach and under his clothing were determined and he felt his muscles contract as they brushed over the hard bulge they found. His pants and underclothes were pushed down as Krycek's mouth left his and he was pressed back against the solid structure of the tree. He felt exposed, the soft breeze touching his cock as it rose before him, but he was not left uncovered for long as Krycek moved down his body with touches and licks to take him deeply within his jaws. As though by a ravaging beast, he was consumed, his rampant flesh sucked in and gripped by throat muscles that seemed to want nothing more than to eat him alive. He felt their pressure and moaned as he looked down at the man kneeling before him, running desperate hands over the naked, moist shoulders, fingers biting into the silk white curves as he was taken even deeper. Lips firmed around him, a ring of wet fire that rode his helpless thrusts. 

"My god, my god, don't stop, please, please." He heard his voice from a distance, too overwhelmed by the sensations that were passing like lightning through him. He felt the harsh bark rub against his buttocks and was glad of the rasping pain. He vaguely felt the cloth around his knees pull as he moved and only wished that he was as naked and free as the man who knelt before him. He felt the hands that bit into his ass and hoped they would leave marks of possession so that he might feel the minor pain later and know its cause. Finally, he wanted this moment never to end, wanted to stay at this peak for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. But his body could only sustain such extreme pleasure for a brief time and with hips that thrust without thought or mind or manners, he shot his seed deep into the mouth that held him and screamed his shattering release into the echoing woods that enshrouded them. At the last Krycek pulled back, semen splashing his neck and chest as Mulder thrashed against the tree, chaffing his shoulders, but uncaring in that instant of any stimuli other than his own climax.

Krycek rose and pushed him back against the tree, his solid bulk the only thing that kept Mulder's knees from buckling beneath him. He rubbed against the body that still hummed with orgasm, spreading Mulder's sperm between them, licking it clean from Mulder's nipples before thrusting his lips up to catch the last sigh of his lover's release. Bending into the apex of his thighs, Krycek directed his sex between them, pressing and humping until he felt his own excitement catch fire and looked deep into Mulder's sated eyes as he came across his belly.

Krycek sank down onto his knees, steadying his heaving frame on the grass below. It was always the same. When Mulder finally let go, he was totally wild and Alex was a more than appreciative audience. "Well, least we don't have to worry about the sales assistant coming in and catching us this time," he panted, smiling at the man who slid down beside him with boneless disregard.

Understanding the reference, Mulder grinned in erotic recollection, clutching Krycek to his body and laughing for the sheer joy of it.

Finally they quieted, but didn't break apart, loathe to disturb the new found peace that had come over them. Mulder rested against the tree, Alex's head in his lap, the earthy, musky scent of sex a pleasantly exciting aroma for dreams.

"Mulder?"

Mulder shifted, his gaze questioning as Krycek turned over onto his stomach and looked up at him.

"Tell me about your father."

There was confusion, then pain, then a hard shutter of steal slammed down over Mulder's face and he pushed Krycek away from him violently.

"You manipulative little shit-head." Mulder pulled his undershorts and jeans up savagely, taking scarce care of tender flesh as he tucked it away. "Did you think I'd be easier to handle after a little sex?" Mulder demanded, his anger palpable. 

"Mulder..." 

Krycek tried to reach for him, but Mulder slapped his hands away. "Don't touch me. Just the thought of you touching me makes me sick."

Snatching up his jacket, Mulder stormed off across the glade without a backward glance and Krycek could only watch as he disappeared into the trees.

Standing slowly, he walked down to the lake and washed the stains of their lovemaking from his skin, feeling somehow dirtier in that moment then he had ever felt before. Because he knew that Mulder had spoken the truth, that he <had> sought to wring some confession from Mulder when he was at his most vulnerable. It was so easy to fall into old patterns and he'd used sex as a workable commodity for so many years that it was almost second nature to him now. His reasons this time though had been motivated by concerns other than his own needs. Mulder had to talk about his childhood. It had molded the man Alex had fallen in love with, but it was also the source of most of Mulder's pain and until he opened up and shared that pain, it would fester and grow and finally destroy him. And Alex had no intention of standing by and letting that happen.

Sighing, he began to collect his clothes and pull them on, his skin feeling chill now that passion was fading. He picked up Mulder's denim shirt, holding it to his face and breathing in the sweet, heady scent that clung to it. He was surprised by the faint hum of arousal that tightened his body, regretting that he was unlikely to find Mulder receptive to another bout of lovemaking any time soon.

Deciding that it might be better to wait and give Mulder time to cool off, he didn't immediately follow the other man. Instead he sat and threw stones into the water, watching the ripples eddy out and fade into the smooth surface. Life was like that, he thought. An action taken could cause ripples that affected so many lives. Mulder's father, the consortium, his own compliance, it was all cause and affect. And yet, he couldn't regret it, not all of it, for it had brought him here, to this place, with the one person he wanted to be with. The only person who made him feel like a human being again. And for that he would trade anything, even his life.

As hunger and other pangs started to make themselves felt, Krycek decided it was time to return to the house. He hoped that Mulder was over the worst of his temper, but was prepared to put up with the expected coldness, accepting that the man had good reason for his anger. At least he'd be able to eat and that was a pleasure that Krycek had come to especially appreciate in the last few months. Food, once something taken for granted, was now enjoyed and savored when available. He couldn't remember the last time he had gone into a restaurant for a nice meal and a bottle of wine. Most of his food recently had been take-outs and other quickly consumed fast food. Maybe he could persuade Mulder to take him somewhere nice? <Yeah, right Alex. And you'll dance the night away to romantic Gershwin tunes while everyone looks on benevolently. Wake up, Krycek, you're living in la la land again.>

It was pointless wishing for things that could never be, but sometimes it was the only thing that kept him sane.

*********

Part 2

You are my oxygen  
I breathe you in...I breathe you out  
You are my oxygen...you are my love  
You are what life's about

Richard Page 'My Oxygen'

His pace was easy as he made his way back, wanting to get home, but not looking forward to the disapproval he was sure to find there. How could he convince Mulder that he was genuinely sorry for trying to use sex to manipulate him? The passion had been real, but the motive highly suspect and there was no use denying it. Mulder would see through his lies in a second.

Leaving the woods, he saw the house and speeded up, deciding to get it over with quickly now so that they could get to the make up part. Grinning confidently to himself, he remembered the look on Mulder's face as he came, howling his name. Mulder would not be able to resist him for long, of that he was sure. He would just have to make certain that he wore his most contrite expression, the one he practiced just for his ex partner.

Opening the kitchen door, it was the quality of stillness within that alerted his well honed survival instincts. Something felt wrong. Cursing silently his lack of a weapon, he grabbed the nearest heavy object, a rolling pin that Frohike had been using earlier. It was still coated with a fine dusting of flour, but of the man in question there was no sign. Moving cautiously, not yet sure if he was letting nerves get to him or if there was a real threat, Krycek scanned the area but saw nothing amiss. He didn't relax though, used to trusting what his senses told him. Skirting around the table, he was just about to head for the door leading into the main hall when he spotted the crumpled form of Frohike on the floor, his small body huddled almost under the table. Forcefully ignoring the inner voice that screamed at him to find Mulder, he went to the little man, rolling him over and checking his pulse. Alive, good. He needed to know what he was dealing with here and the man had valuable information. Going over to the sink, he filled a cup of water, then returned to where Frohike lay and slowly trickling the water over his face. The man began to stir and splutter, rolling onto his side. Krycek put the cup down and tapped his face lightly until, with a groan of pain, Frohike opened his eyes.

"What hit me?" were the first words out of his mouth, but Krycek just put a finger to his lips and leant nearer.

"Where's Mulder?"

Frohike shook his head, then groaned again before cutting it off abruptly. "I don't know. I was making lunch and suddenly something hit me on the back of the head. Next thing I know you're pouring water over my face."

Krycek's lips pursed with impatience. He was no nearer finding out how bad the situation was. "Do you know where Mulder's gun is? The one he left here?"

"I'm pretty sure he put it back in the hall table. You think someone's in the house?"

"I <know> someone's in the house. I just don't know how many someones. And I don't know where Mulder is." His frustration with this lack of knowledge was liberally peppered with fear. Where was Mulder? Was he OK? Was he.....Krycek cut off the thought, knowing he had to stay functional. He would assume Mulder was alive unless he found out otherwise.

"I'm going to see if I can get the gun, then I'm going to go look for our unexpected visitor."

"What do you want me to do?" Frohike whispered, willing to help even though his head was pounding and his palms were sweaty with terror.

"I want you to stay here. I'm going to have to react first and ask questions later and I don't want to blow your head off by accident. Mulder would never forgive me." 

The accompanying smile chilled Frohike's blood and reminded him of the brief flash of danger he had been subjected to so recently from this man. 

"What about Mulder?"

Krycek's smile died and he stood up, his eyes hard. "Don't worry, there's no chance I'll shoot him by accident."

Without waiting to see what effect his words might have, Krycek moved to the door and cautiously opened it a crack. Peering out, he scouted the area and found it clear. To Krycek's heightened senses the house seemed to carry an air of expectancy, as though it were only waiting for him to make his next move. Darting across the polished hallway, he quickly made his way to the table, knowing that this was when he would be most vulnerable to attack. Pulling open the drawer, he was relieved to find the gun laying inside. At least now he was armed. Confirming it was loaded, he decided on his next course of action, refusing to let his own desperation take control. He was pretty sure that whoever their visitor was, he was no longer downstairs, but he forced himself to look anyway, moving with stealth-like speed from room to room. When he had checked them all, he acknowledge what he had known anyway, that the intruder was upstairs. <With Mulder.> He could see the scene, Mulder returning to the house and retreating to his room to lick his wounds. Had it been one man, two, who broke in? Frohike taken care of, they would have searched the house much as he had done before looking upstairs and finding Mulder. What was their purpose here? Was it Mulder they were after? No, Mulder was an easy target, one that could have been taken out of the picture at any time. No, they were after something else, someone else. They were after him. Mulder hadn't brought his gun with him when they'd gone for their walk, which meant it was still in his room. Had he resisted? Had he even had time? <Please don't let them have hurt him, please, please, don't let them have hurt him.> He ruthlessly shut off the voice in his head and tried to concentrate, but it was hard, harder than it had ever been before. 

Creeping up the stairs, he grimaced as one creaked under his weight and waited, gun raised, but all was silence and he continued on. As he reached the top he could hear the low mumble of voices from Mulder's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and he only needed to barely push it with his toe to get a clear look at the occupants.

Mulder sat, handcuffed or tied to a chair, Krycek couldn't see. His head was slumped, but Alex could just make out the smear of blood across his lips where he'd been beaten. He gripped his gun tighter. There was nothing but death in his eyes now. 

Two men stood beside Mulder, one almost blocking Krycek's view. Their long raincoats and crew-cuts proclaimed them as government men, which only confirmed his suspicions. 

"You'd better be careful. Remember, they don't want him killed."

The man who had been addressed turn to his more cautious companion, mouth working into a sneer. "I'm only going to damage him a little until he tells us what we want to know."

Krycek calculated the odds of taking them both out from this angle, but they were too close to Mulder. He couldn't run the risk of a bullet going astray.

The man pulled Mulder's hair and yanked his head back, raising his fist to continue the beating. Krycek lurched forward, but in that moment his eyes clashed with Mulder's, a demand, an entreaty 'Stay back'. It halted him for a moment, enough time for the fist to land, for those eyes to be torn away in pain.

<Sorry, Mulder, not a chance.> "Hey, fellas, did someone start the party without me?"

As he walked into the room with all the casualness of an expected guest, both men spun around, their guns trained on him. He was counting on the element of surprise to throw them off balance and draw them away from Mulder, just long enough to give him the angle he needed to work with. He moved into the room, arms raising in apparent surrender, hands resting behind his head...one reaching for the gun he had pushed into the neck of his jacket. 

The next few moments moved in a blur, his hand arcing down and gun firing in one fluid movement. He took the first one out easily, a clean shot to the chest, then smoothly dove to the left as he heard the sharp retort from the other's gun. Never had he been more grateful for the hours of training he'd been subjected to in his youth as he swung and fired, sending two bullets, one to the heart, one to the head, as he'd been taught to do.

For a moment he lay on the floor, mentally checking his body for signs of injury and finding none. Then he heard a soft mewl and the sound of a chair toppling and rolled over to see Mulder trying to crawl across the carpet to him, hampered by the solid wooden bulk he was tied to.

His concern rising again now that the immediate danger was over, he shuffled over to meet Mulder halfway, relieved to find no serious damage as he examined him anxiously. "You're OK, I've got you," he reassured.

"I thought you were dead. I thought they'd killed you."

He barely heard the softly spoken words as he reached around to untie Mulder's hands, startled by their quiet intensity. "It's been tried before. Today just wasn't their lucky day." He chaffed the blood back into Mulder's wrists, frowning over the red marks the window cord had left on the delicate skin. Then he helped Mulder over to the bed and sat him down. He put up no resistance and that in itself worried Krycek, knowing that Mulder would not normally acquiesce to such treatment. Turning to bend over the bodies, he confirmed that they were both dead with grim satisfaction. Just as he was rising to his feet, he heard a creek at the door and swung to cover it with his gun, halting his instinct to fire as he recognized Frohike's familiar figure.

He lowered the gun slowly. "Might be an idea to try knocking next time," he warned sardonically as Frohike stepped into the room. 

"Mulder...?"

"He's OK," Krycek reassured when Mulder failed to answer his friend. "Just a little shaken up and with a few more bruises. He'll be fine."

Frohike looked at the bodies laying on the floor. "What are we going to do about them?" he asked, knowing that the protection the FBI afforded Mulder might not be enough to cover them in Canada.

"I'll take care of them later," Alex answered, picking the guns up and stashing them in the dresser drawer. "Can you make some tea, weak, lots of sugar. I think Mulder could do with something." It was as much to get rid of the man as anything. He was concerned for Mulder, who sat at rigid attention on the bed and refused to meet his eyes. Something more was going on here, of that he was certain. He just wasn't sure what the hell it was.

As Frohike left, Alex went and crouched down by the bed. "Mulder..." he took Mulder's hand in his. "Come on, talk to me. What's wrong? Are you hurt?" He reached up to touch the blood on Mulder's lips, but the other man shied away from him. "Mulder, please, tell me what's going on here."

Suddenly Mulder turned his burning gaze on him. "Why the hell did you come in? They weren't going to kill me, you know that."

"Mulder, there was no way I was just going to watch while they beat the crap out of you."

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"

Krycek fell back as Mulder sprang to his feet in sudden fury and only now, as he looked up into that desolate face and saw the fear and the pain, did he understand.

Doing the only thing he knew that might break through that terror, he wrapped his arms around Mulder's legs and held on tight, mumbling words that were meaningless and meant everything until Mulder sank to his knees as well and returned the embrace, shaking in the arms that held him so tenderly as shock ripped through his body.

Then Mulder pulled back and rested against the side of the bed, his knees pressed to his chest in a defensive posture that did not go unnoticed.

"They must have followed me. I led them straight here."

Krycek couldn't deny the likelihood of that. They both knew who had sent the two bully boys. Obviously Mulder's interest in things Canadian had caused some curiosity in certain quarters.

"They might have been on to me from the hospital," he suggested, even though he wasn't convinced.

Mulder shook his head. "I didn't give them this address. Anyway, I got the guys to erase your record in the hospital database."

Krycek looked impressed. When Mulder had first told him about his three friends and their rather paranoid activities, he had thought they were just a bunch of fruitcakes that Mulder tolerated for reasons known only to himself. Getting to know Frohike a little better had changed his opinion to a degree, but he still hadn't known they had so many useful talents.

"What did they want from you?"

Mulder tossed a glance his way. "Where you were. I didn't tell them."

"That much I figured," Krycek answered with gentle mockery.

Mulder abruptly rose to his feet and approached the bodies. "We're gonna need to get rid of them. I don't think my ID is going to carry a lot of weight with the authorities here and anyway, you can't afford the kind of questions they'll ask."

Krycek followed him, looking down at the bodies with cold indifference. "There's a gorge about half a mile from here. That should do." He studied Mulder furtively, wondering if the man was really as calm about dumping the bodies as he seemed, but could determine little from Mulder's impassive expression. 

"Help me get them out of here," Mulder said, moving to lift one of the men. "Well put them in the basement for now, dump them this evening when it's dark."

Nodding in agreement, Krycek helped Mulder carry the men downstairs. As they came up from the basement they were greeted by the sight of Frohike, his suitcase standing next to him in the hallway.

"I don't think you need me here anymore, Mulder, so I thought I'd go back home. I've left dinner in the oven. It just needs heating up."

Unspoken between all three of them was the knowledge that the house was no longer safe. They had bought a little time, but that was all.

"Thanks, Frohike." It was more than just a thanks for coming here and helping when Mulder had needed someone he could trust. It was thanks for knowing, without having to be told, that Mulder wanted to be alone with Alex...wanted time to say goodbye."

"Hey, it gave me a chance to try out some new recipes. The guys just don't appreciate my Epicurean talents the way this fella does," he said, gesturing to Krycek. 

Alex approached and held out his hand. "I appreciated more than the cooking, Frohike." They shook hands and Krycek was surprised to find that he would miss the strange little man who was Mulder's friend.

A taxi drew up outside and Mulder picked up Frohike's case and carried it to the car for him.

"I'll see you when you get back to town, Mulder," he promised as he sat in the back. "There's some new theories on the government's involvement with a certain pharmaceutical product I want to run by you."

Mulder smiled at the idea of hearing one of the Lone Gunmen's wild theories. They were the only people he knew who were more paranoid than him. There were worse things to base a friendship on he supposed. As he watched the taxi drive away, he wondered what his friend thought of his relationship with Krycek? They had not spoken of it, but Frohike was not a fool and neither he nor Alex had been particularly circumspect. He wasn't worried though. He trusted the other man enough to know that he would never lose his friendship just because his sexual orientation had taken an unexpected turn.

They spent the rest of the day together doing the small tasks that would need seeing to before they left, tasks which by some silent, mutual consent, never took them too far from the other. They both knew that this was their last night here, that to stay now would be too dangerous. Oddly enough, neither tried to initiate anything more physical, yet in some strange way they felt closer in those few hours together than they had ever felt before. 

Eventually it was dark enough and they took in hand the grisly chore of loading the bodies into the rental and taking them to the gorge. As they stood and looked down into the blackness that had just swallowed the two lifeless corpses, Mulder wondered vaguely why he didn't feel any guilt over the act, but spent little time in deliberation. He remembered too clearly how he had felt when he'd seen Alex's still form lying at his feet. 

When they got back, Mulder put the dinner on to heat and when it was ready they chose to sit on the rug by the fire to eat it. Afterwards they stayed by the fire and talked. As promised, Krycek told Mulder all he knew about the Consortium, although they were both aware that it was outdated and probably useless information by now. He spoke of the little he had been able to retrieve from the DAT tape, and everything he had managed to pick up while he'd been on the run. Straying onto more personal matters, he told Mulder a little bit about his life growing up, not dwelling on the more painful aspects, but the everyday things that happen to all young men as they entered adulthood, laughing with Mulder over his first clumsy attempts at seducing a date, to his discovery that he was attracted to both sexes. 

Mulder in his turn told stories of his life growing up and of his sister. There was sadness, but he treasured the few precious memories of a boyhood that remained, even now, a dark place for him to go. In the end he spoke of his father as Alex listened patiently, neither encouraging nor rejecting the confessions. And at last Mulder released his bitterness against the man who had towered over his youth like some dominating oppressor, a man who had allowed a young, vulnerable boy to shoulder a guilt that had haunted his life rather than take the responsibility himself. A man who had never once, in all those years, shown Mulder that he was loved.

It was as if they were trying to cram everything into the last few hours left to them. Time had always been their enemy, and now time had finally run out. As Mulder's voice tapered off, Krycek reached over and took his hand, pulling it to lie blanketed against his own thigh. 

"I'm sorry." He wished he knew the words to heal Mulder's wounds, but could think of nothing else to say.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," he clutched the hand that lay within his own, turning it and bringing it to his lips. "It does matter," he whispered onto the smooth flesh, kissing it tenderly.

Mulder shook his head. "You were right, I needed to talk about it. Now I have to let it go."

"Can you?"

Mulder waited and considered before answering. "I can't change who I am now, the part of me that was molded by what happened to me as a child. I still need to find out what happened to Samantha, but it's no longer about wanting my father's approval, or to prove anything. It's just what I have to do. The only thing I can do."

"You're going to need help." Krycek looked at him intently. "You can't do it on your own."

Mulder smiled, "I have Scully, and I think Skinner now. I'm not alone anymore."

Krycek looked away. "Sounds like you have all the help you need." He felt a tug on his hand and turned back to face Mulder.

"I could always use another friend. I go for quality, not quantity."

Krycek read the invitation in Mulder's eyes and allowed himself a small smile. "What you need is an outside man, someone who can get to places without worrying about red tape."

"Sounds good to me," Mulder agreed. "Know anyone crazy enough to want the job?"

Krycek chuckled, "Oh, he's crazy all right, but he has had the experience of working with driven FBI men who have a deep-seated obsession with all things weird."

"He's hired! Just make sure he knows, I do the driving." 

They shared the moment, but for all the humor, they knew an offer had been made and accepted, one that would bring danger to both of them. And if it was all they ever had, it was more than they had ever dreamed of possessing.

"I should leave," Mulder said after some time, voicing what they both knew. "So should you. We don't know how long it will take them to check up on humpty and dumpty."

Krycek said nothing, allowing him to make the decision. 

Mulder got to his feet and extended his hand. "Let's go to bed."

Taking the hand, Krycek followed him up the stairs. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach in a way they hadn't since his first experiences with sex. Anticipation and anxiety mixed within him, a desperate need to make this special, to make Mulder remember this night for the rest of his life....just as he would remember it.

Part 3

Going into Mulder's bedroom, he made no protest as he was pushed against the wall and kissed with deep, wet thoroughness before he was released. Mulder began to undress, watching his reaction as he removed each piece of clothing and let it drop to the floor. Krycek also started to take his clothes off, giving as teasing a display as he was being subjected to. Smoothing his hand across his chest and thumbing his nipples, he smiled wickedly at Mulder. Unable to resist, Mulder reached out and brushed his fingers down the throat laid bare before him, tracing the same path that Alex had just traced. They came together again and kissed, moving, still within the embrace, towards the bed to tumble onto it. Pushing down his shorts so that he was as nude as his lover, Krycek sat astride Mulder who writhed under him, making their cocks bumped and tap against one another. Alex sighed and settled down across his hips.

"I always wanted to see you like this, under me, wanting me," he breathed, undulating so that Mulder could feel how excited he was. "All the times you hit me I could feel the heat of you pressing into me through your clothes and I used to think of this. It was worth all the bruises, all the pain. I used it to feed my fantasies when I lay awake at night, thinking about you, us, doing this."

Mulder groaned and fitted their hips closer together. "What made you do something that day, in the lingerie department?" His hand strayed, finding Krycek's stiff flesh and pumping it just enough to torment. "I couldn't believe it when you pushed me into that room and started ripping off my clothes."

Krycek grinned and lent down to lick across the fine hairs that trailed down Mulder's stomach. "It was hot, wasn't it? I felt kinda crazy that day."

Mulder pulled him down so that Krycek lay spread over him, the pressure on his cock making him close his eyes and gasp in a sucking breath. "I like you kinda crazy," he whispered as he brought their mouths together for another kiss.

Turning them over, he began to play Alex's body like a fine instrument, touching and tasting and discovering the things that pleasured his lover the most. 

It was different than before, of this Krycek was well aware, but he didn't draw Mulder's attention to it, not wanting to burst the dream world he had fallen into where Mulder wanted him as much as he wanted Mulder. The man who was now turning his body to molten lava was not the selfish, reluctantly eager lover he had known in the past, but someone whose only intent was to find out what his lover wanted and provide it. Krycek could only moan in helpless encouragement, knowing that this was going to be special, the best, the very, very best. 

Mulder urge him on top again, catching him between his thighs and gripping him like some voracious clam. "The bedside drawer," he motioned with his head.

For a moment Alex just continued to thrust into the hollow of Mulder's belly, but seeing the expectant look, he reached over and opened the drawer. Inside was a tube that he couldn't fail to recognize. He pulled it out and smiled down at Mulder.

"Well, well, it's nice to know you were thinking of me." He swung off of Mulder and lay down on the bed next to him, his hand reaching out to sketch meandering patterns over the soft belly. "So, do you want me on my front or back?"

Mulder caught Alex's hand and pushed it down, over his genitals, to the entrance of his body. The invitation was unmistakable.

"I want you here. I want you inside me so deep that I'll ache for days and I'll remember this moment and how it felt when you were moving in me. I want to feel you pump your seed into me and know that I belong to you. I want you to take all of me and make it enough for both of us."

Krycek was stunned as Mulder released his hand, letting it brush laxly against his body. He hadn't expected this, hadn't allowed himself to expect it, willing to take what he could get. But there was no question of his rejecting the offer.

"Turn over." He pushed Mulder gently, urging him to move and Mulder did, his nervousness apparent in the trembling Krycek could feel against his hand. "Don't worry, we'll take it slow, I promise. I'll make you love it."

Mulder didn't try to answer, his tongue now stilled by emotions too confusing to name. Krycek moved behind him, his kiss tracing a soft, worshipful path down his spine as he raised Mulder to his knees. 

"Brace yourself against the headboard," he commanded, waiting until Mulder followed his orders. 

Alex's tongued snaked over the pale white flesh, hands reaching round and cupping Mulder's balls, his cock, as his tongue moved down, down, until it dipped between the furrowed buttocks. Alex felt Mulder tense and fondled his cock harder so that all his thoughts were centered there. As his tongue dipped into the clenched mystery of Mulder's ass, tasting the earthy splendor that awaited him, he felt the man under him tense again, then relax and spread his legs wider with a sigh. As he rimmed the place he would soon bury himself, Alex kept his hand moving on Mulder's cock and balls, his other hand needed to still the involuntary movement his ministrations were causing. The hole opened to his touch as he flicked in, wetting and tasting, preparing the way so there would be no pain. Feeling that Mulder would soon reach flash point if he continued, he reached over and grabbed the tube of lubricant, squeezing a healthy amount onto his fingers. Laying one against Mulder's hole, he pushed in gently, quieting Mulder as he started and gasped at the unfamiliar sensation. The joint stimulus of the finger inside him and the hand pumping his cock soon had Mulder's body open and accepting of the small invasion, enough so that Krycek could add another finger, working that in gradually until Mulder was comfortable with it.

"You're killing me here. Why the hell don't you just fuck me," Mulder choked out, rocking his hips back to get more of the wonderful feelings that were starting to thread through his body.

Krycek chuckled and kissed each buttock, knowing Mulder was as ready as he would ever be and not wanting to risk it all being over before it truly began. There was also the insistent rush of blood to his own rampant flesh that demanded he take what was being offered so wantonly.

Moving back slightly, Alex slicked down his cock, trying to keep the touch as impersonal as possible, then he pulled Mulder's hips nearer and centered himself, holding his hard flesh steady as he knelt in position.

"Breathe in, Mulder." For once the man did as he was told and Krycek brought the tip of his penis into place. "When I start to go into you, breathe out slowly, OK."

Mulder merely grunted, not up to intelligible speech at that precise moment. 

Krycek pressed, feeling his cock start to push in, the flared head stretching, easing passed the tight outer ring. Mulder's bit off a sob and Alex held still, waiting for his lover's body to accept this first intrusion, closing his eyes and hoping for the patience to make this good for the man he loved. The infinite relaxing of the body beneath his was all he was waiting for and he began to press deeper, working in and out in little thrusts that opened the way before him as gently as he knew how. Soon he was blanketing Mulder's back, their balls almost flush. Reaching around to grasp Mulder's cock again, he began a slow pumping rhythm outside and in, arching back, rocking forward. Mulder, his head down, began to urge him on, demanding harder, faster, but Krycek was not about to be rushed, making the man beg for it before giving into his own driving need to rut. The force of his thrusts increased and he dimly heard the thump, thump of the bed as it hit the wall, barely more aware of Mulder's cries and pleas as the other man took all he had to give and demanded more. It was all he'd dreamed of on dark, lonely nights alone, and as he closed his eyes and plunged into the body beneath his own, he thought that if he died here, within this man, it would be worth it, worth it all. Mulder began to jerk and curse in his grasp, thrusting back against him, and he speeded up his stabbing lunges, shaking the sweat out of his eyes as he felt the rushing heat surge through his nerves and center, ready to pore into the body that sheathed him. As he shoved forcefully into the slick, tight flesh that held him, and pumped the stiff cock that strained in his hand with moist heat, he felt it pulse and twitch, then Mulder howled out in abandoned freedom and spurted across the headboard and pillows, clenching Krycek's cock so hard it caused that little edge of pain that was all Alex needed to hit the summit himself, pounding into the caging, narrow tunnel as he shot his sperm deep into Mulder, just as his lover had wanted, marking him forever with his seed, making him his. A few shallow thrusts, then they collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, so drained by the sensory overload that they could only lie in each other's arms and pant in deep, gulping breaths. 

Mulder snuffled, burying deeper into Krycek's chest as sleep drew near. Alex pressed him closer, adjusting him in his arms and pulling the comforter over them both. 

"Alex...."

"Shhhh, go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

" 'kay," Mulder mumbled, snuggling into the softness of the blanket and the warm body beneath his cheek.

Alex stayed awake watching him for a long time, cataloguing each expression as they came and went on his face, and watched the dreams pass without darkness for this one night. 

*********

Mulder wasn't sure why he felt so good, but he was more than happy to appreciate it as he began to wake up. Then the odd aches and pains made themselves known as he turned and stretched and he remembered, grinning with utter contentment as he opened his eyes on a new day. 

The space next to him was empty and at first he was only mildly disappointed by that fact. He sat up and smiled in lustful reminiscence as he saw the evidence of their activities splattered across the pillows, wondering if he could talk Alex into another round. Then he saw it, propped up on the chest of drawers next to the bed. 

He sat and looked at the plain white envelope for some time before reaching over and picking it up, tearing it open with a savagery that belied his calm facade.

*Mulder,

By now you've probably guessed that I've gone and you're probably pissed as hell at me. Don't be, please, don't let's play those kind of games again, not now. I went because I couldn't say goodbye, it's a simple as that. And here I am saying goodbye anyway. Somehow this doesn't hurt quite as much when I don't have to look into your eyes. Neither of us knows what's going to happen, that much we've both learnt the hard way, but I remember my promise and I will help if I can. So maybe this isn't goodbye. I hope not, because I need to see you again, angry or indifferent or maybe, just maybe, glad to see me. I want you to find your truth, Mulder, and perhaps, somewhere along the way, I'll find mine. But then, maybe I already have. K.*

Mulder neatly folded the paper and put it back in its envelope, then he got up and took his shower. His actions were by rote, done without need or thought or consideration. Collecting the bag he'd packed the previous day, he briefly checked Alex's room to make sure he hadn't left anything behind, but wasn't surprised to find it totally clear of any trace of occupation. Carrying his bag downstairs, he threw what remained of the food away and made sure the kitchen was clean. As he left the house he locked the door behind him and popped the key into his pocket He would drop it off at the Realtors on his way to the airport. Only once did he stop and turn to look at the house. Cold and empty now, or that was how it seemed to him at that moment, knowing that he was unlikely to come here again. But it was simply mortar and stone. Only Alex's presence had briefly made it feel like a home.

He slid into the driver's seat of his rental and turned the ignition. As he drove away, his hand strayed into his pocket and touched the envelope he had placed there before leaving, remembering a promise, and the man who had made it.

*********

Mulder dropped his bag on the floor and flopped onto his couch wearily. The case had been hard, grueling both emotionally and physically. Not an X-Files, although he and Scully had gone to Louisville in the belief that it might be. Just another crazy who liked to hurt people. Human, or at least what passed for human nowadays. 

Of course the case was not the real problem. For the passed three months Mulder had worked and eaten and occasionally slept. The usual daily routines were done more from habit than enthusiasm. And he waited. And each day came, and each day went, and his life carried on and he tried to tell himself that maybe tomorrow he'd hear something. But he never did. He wondered how long it would take before hope died? How long before he had to accept, by his very silence, that the man he loved was most likely lying in some cold dark alley with a bullet in his brain. Because he knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that if Alex were alive, he would have found some way to keep his promise.

Contemplating how much effort it would take to stand and remove his coat, Mulder was surprised to hear a knock at the door. Sighing impatiently, he stood and slowly went to open it.

"Package for Mr. Fox Mulder," the delivery boy said, ignoring the unfriendly glare he was being subjected to.

Mulder eyed the parcel warily, signing the paper thrust under his nose before hunting for his wallet. Tip procured, the boy left and Mulder closed the door and took the parcel back to the couch. Most people would have been delighted to receive an unexpected gift, but Mulder was not most people and usually the things he was sent bore no relation to the latest Jean Paul Gautier designer tie.

Seeing no visible means of identifying the sender, Mulder decided that he had no choice but to open it. Tearing off the wrapping, he was surprised to see a vaguely familiar logo on the box inside. It was only as he lifted the lid that he remembered where he'd seen it before and felt a blush steal over his cheeks at the memory.

Inside, settled amongst the delicate folds of tissue paper, sat a women's garter belt. Resting on top was a note that Mulder eagerly unfolded, his eyes scanning the words hurriedly.

*February 14th  
 Days Inn Hotel  
 2201 Arlington Boulevard  
 Room 101  
 8.00 p.m.*

And he smiled, a full blown, happy smile as he held the lacy fabric in the air. No longer a taunt, not even a challenge, just a reminder. For this time, the sensuous lingerie was not black. This time the cloth was a deep shade of red, chosen, he knew, with purpose. For black was the color of pain, but red, red was the color of love.

The End  
28/9/97

And the end of the Black Lace series. Hope you liked it.

Katy Deery  
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